Hollow Thunder, Vital Lightning
by Aariya07
Summary: Life after Voldemort is ideal and perfect for everyone except the one who made it possible. Unbelievably bored and unhappy, Harry performs a spell that will take him to an alternate universe where he can be happiest & active with Voldemort. ::AU; slash:: FINALLY UPDATED!
1. Blasé

**_Hollow Thunder, Vital Lightning_ _-_**_Aariya_

Rating: NC-17 :You've been warned!:

Pairing: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle

Genre: Drama, Romance, Fantasy, Action/Adventure

Summary: Life after Voldemort is ideal and perfect for everyone except the one who made it possible. Unbelievably bored and unhappy, Harry performs a spell that will take him to an alternate universe where he can be happiest with Voldemort. Even he hadn't expected the outcomes or how the spell would misinterpret his desires.

Warnings: _slash_; AU; Slytherin!Harry; Dark!Harry (sorta)...and another one I took out that you will have to figure out for yourself; it's kind of crucial to the plot so I can't tell you!

Spoilers: Compliant with first five books and includes information from six and seven.

**Di****sclaimer:** Obviously Harry Potter does not belong to me or I would not be here posting fanfics.

.-.

"HTVL" - English, or other human languages

_HTVL - Thoughts, Spells, Special Text (titles and such)_

_"HTVL" - Parseltongue, Incanted Spells, or a language within a language _

_**HTVL - Parselmagic (spells and the language in writing)**_

Chapter 1: Blasé

* * *

Harry was bored. Scratch that. He was _so fucking _bored!

Lying in his Gryffindor-prided bed, he tried to read the pages he was assigned for Transfiguration, but was unable to concentrate on the meaningless words. He was alone in the Head Dorm, as he tended to be nowadays. Ron and Hermione spent all their time together and his friends had other things to do. Even Neville was spending time with his girlfriend, some bint from Hufflepuff. Neville, for Merlin's sake!

Growling angrily, he got up and tossed the book from his chest in the process. He would go find Draco and amuse himself, though even that had lost some of its entertainment.

He knew what the problem was, just not how to go about this revelation. Ever since his defeat of Voldemort, he'd felt this way. He didn't dare tell anyone in case they thought he was a bit touched in the head. But he couldn't help the way he felt. Without Voldemort, life was extremely boring and meaningless.

The world was much happier and brighter since Voldemort's fall. It was as if a cloud of darkness had been lifted. Everyone walked around with a spring to their steps and they didn't look around suspiciously over their shoulders. They trusted anyone they saw and were always smiling. People practically worshipped the ground he walked on for making this new world possible.

Harry sometimes wondered at their selfishness. Sure they were happy, but why did they never notice how _un_happy he was? Just because he'd spent almost his whole life trying to rid the world of Voldemort didn't mean he would be ecstatic the moment he was gone.

Damn snake-face for making him feel this way! How he hated him! Yet, he could not go on living without him.

_You can join me, Harry. We can rule the world. Just imagine what we could accomplish together._

That had been Voldemort's last attempt to make him come to his side. Of course, he had refused. As if he and Voldemort could work together. He only wanted a challenging rival, not some megalomaniac to rule with.

But even those words sounded better than what he was living through now.

After he'd killed him, Harry had gone on a rage. He had not let anyone approach him for weeks as he destroyed everything in his path. People had assumed he was feeling anger at having to kill Voldemort with a simple Killing Curse instead of inflicting unimaginable pain on him, but they were, of course, wrong as usual.

He himself had expected to feel joy after eradicating his worst enemy but all he had felt was emptiness and the feeling that he was missing something.

Harry had surrounded himself with countless distractions. He had practiced and perfected many spells in some of the Black houses he had inherited after Sirius's death.

He hadn't known why but when he practiced the Dark Arts, that emptiness in him dulled considerably. When he had practiced some Parseltongue spells from Parseltongue books that he'd found, it was even more unnoticeable. To distance himself from that feeling, he plunged into his studies until he could learn very little actual new information.

Then Harry had tried to find other ways to get rid of his boredom. At first, he went out a lot and went to a club nearly every day. But he'd found that boring quickly. After that, he'd had a short fling with Draco Malfoy at the end of the school year.

It had been fun and exciting for a while. The idea of being with a Slytherin had excited him for some reason. Not to mention, Draco was a lot more fun than his fellow Gryffindors. He was not so predictable and sometimes he couldn't even guess what he was thinking or feeling. And they were both so aggressive and dominant that he had made it his goal to make the blond submit to him. Over the summer, the fact that he was sneaking Draco into his house while Hermione and Ron and sometimes half the Order who wouldn't bugger off were there as well had made his blood rush.

But that had also lost its amusement. No matter how many things he did to occupy himself, he always ended up being bored in the end. None of them were a substitute for Voldemort and he knew it, as much as he tried to ignore it.

Harry ran a hand through his long mane, trying to comb the thoughts out of his mind. That was another thing that had changed about him. He had decided to let his hair grow to just above his shoulders. It was a lot more manageable this way; why hadn't he thought of it before?

_Because everything in your life was encompassed around Voldemort. Who had time to worry about appearance?_

His subconscious seemed to be against him as well. It dragged out the truth when he didn't want to hear it.

_Shut up_, he snarled in his head.

Harry ignored the reverent looks he got as he passed the corridors of Hogwarts. Not only did his bloody scar warrant the looks but so did the Head Boy badge that gleamed off his robes whenever he passed the sunlight. (A position he thought he only procured as an apology from Dumbledore for not making him prefect in fifth year, though he supposed he had the best scores in the school after his little studying obsession—bar a certain bushy-haired genius, of course.) So did probably the purposeful (not that he had any purpose to boast of now) way he was walking, like the war leader he had been. They also scarcely saw him unless he was walking to and from classes, the library, and the Great Hall.

He made his way to the dungeons without interruption. He was just contemplating on how he was going to draw Draco out when he heard the unmistakable sound of said boy's light feet treading towards the dungeons.

With a feral smile playing on his lips, Harry turned back around and waited in an alcove off to the side for the boy. When the blond passed by, he wasted no time in taking a hold of his arm and pulling him into the shadows.

_"Fuck!"_ the Slytherin aristocrat hissed.

Harry tutted amusedly. "Such vile words, Draco, are unbecoming of a properly purebred wizard."

"Potter! What do you think you're doing? Unhand me at once!" Draco snarled as he tried to recover his arm.

Harry smirked and instead pinned him against the wall and leaned in close to his face. "Why, Draco? Are you scared?" he asked teasingly.

The Draco Malfoy Harry knew came back in that instant. He put on the arrogant look only an aristocrat could pull off effectively and stared at Harry through his indifferent mercury gaze.

"Get over yourself, Potter," he sneered. "Not everyone is willing to bow down to you."

"Is that so? You so easily forget this summer, Draco," Harry said with a dark chuckle. "I seem to remember you were more than willing to bend over for me."

Once again, Draco sneered at him and tried to push him off. And Harry felt his excitement coming back as they wrestled for dominance.

Finally, Harry grabbed the front of his robes and crushed his lips over the protesting blond's. Draco drew in a sharp breath and tried to fight with him even then. But Harry had been ready for a challenge and, the moment the Slytherin's mouth opened wide enough, he slipped his tongue in. Their tongues clashed with one another and warred for control.

In the end, Draco let out a small moan in the back of his throat and conceded. Smiling into the kiss, Harry tallied another victory over his archrival. He chewed on Draco's bottom lip and rolled their tongues together until he succeeded in making the blond whimper.

Releasing his lips, Harry moved on to the delicate, pale neck of his companion and marveled at its beauty before taking it into his mouth. He felt hands raking through his hair and pushing him deeper into the crook of the neck but didn't complain. He quite liked Draco's forceful behavior in times like this.

"Ah!"

The harsh intake of breath was music to his ears as he found that special place on Draco's collarbone that made the boy shudder and teased it relentlessly. Sucking on it hungrily, he reveled in the moans he was eliciting from those pretty lips.

"S-stop…"

Harry smiled but obeyed and moved down even further as he unbuttoned the boy's shirt under his robes.

"W-we have to get out of here, Potter. Anyone c-could s-see us," Draco tried to reason even as he panted under the attention his right nipple was getting.

Harry bit the hard nipple and smiled seductively up at Draco. "Doesn't that turn you on?"

Draco answered with a deep moan. Harry slowly started rubbing their hips together. They groaned together at the friction this created and Harry sucked on the blond's nipple harder.

Moving down even lower, Harry saw the evident arousal through Draco's trousers. He touched it over the fabric and was happily met with another whimper.

"P-Potter…"

Harry smirked and looked up to see the blond's half-lidded eyes and his mouth open in a whine. "Yes, Draco?"

"Stop t-this. I will not have my reputation tarnished because of your lack of self-control," Draco answered, trying to push Harry away and button up his shirt.

With a roll of his eyes, Harry stood up and let the pureblood wizard compose himself. "Whose reputation do you think will be stained if we were caught? I highly doubt anyone would care for what you were doing," he pointed out mockingly.

He was sent a glare for his jibe. Even after all their escapades, they were rivals first and foremost, though Harry got bored with it sometimes and tried to strike a conversation with the boy. Draco didn't seem to want to let go of their enmity or one-upmanship so he continued to treat him coldly and called him by his last name.

"My dorm, then?" Harry asked, knowing full well that Draco would be steaming at the thought of the title he had lost to Harry. "Hermione's out with Ron. I doubt they'll be back for hours. For a bookworm, she's pretty kinky."

Draco made a face at that. "Please, Potter, I don't wish to know of the Mudblood and the Weasel's sex life," he drawled. "And no, I don't wish to go to your dorm."

Harry looked down at the boy's still present hard-on and raised an eyebrow. "Your body doesn't lie, Draco. You know you want it."

Grabbing his fallen robes, the glaring Slytherin put it back on and hid his erection. "Don't tell me what I want, Potter!" he snapped.

Harry smiled pleasantly and Draco gave him a surprised look for the unexpected expression on his face. "Okay. Suit yourself. Have a nice wank, then."

He turned to walk away and counted down the seconds in his head. It wasn't long before he heard the exclaimed curse and sound of feet moving forward.

"Potter! Don't think you can just walk away!"

Harry grinned but didn't turn around and walked on.

Hmmm, Draco was getting predictable. That wasn't good; he would have to do something about it. For now, though, he was satisfied at the reaction and slowed to let the boy fall into step with him. He smirked smugly at the blond and Draco glowered back at him, muttering something about 'pretentious scarheads.'

_You know he'__ll bore you once you've had your pleasure. He _is _getting predictable, like all the Gryffindor scum you surround yourself with._

Harry was startled at the thought. That couldn't have been his own thinking, could it? He loved his friends, even if they were a little boring, though that wasn't their fault. He was a Gryffindor as well, so it made no sense to belittle them.

_Oh, you know you are a Slytherin at heart. You cheated your way into Gryffindor._

It was true and the thought wasn't as unsettling as it should have been. But why was it coming up now? He supposed he had been scared to go to Slytherin mainly because he had thought only Dark wizards went in there and it had been Voldemort's House as well. Could he accept that he belonged there now that Voldemort was gone? Possibly. It sounded a lot more exciting and less boring than Gryffindor at any rate.

Life had never seemed so blasé as it did that moment. Even sex with Draco was losing its charm the closer he got to his dorm. He would have to do something about this before he went insane enough to _Avada Kedavra _himself.

"Tell your little sycophants to stop staring at me as if I were the Giant Squid itself before I hex them all into oblivion." Draco's threat snapped him from his reverie and he looked to the source of the blond's anger—three Gryffindor second-years who were looking at Draco just as he described it.

Harry smiled patiently at them until they scurried away with pleased smiles and blushes. "Hex them into oblivion, Draco? How inelegant. I thought better of a Malfoy," he taunted once they were gone and he was looking at the scowling blond.

Draco snorted and squared his shoulders. "As if a Gryffindork or a Potter could tell me what elegance is."

Instead of being offended, Harry chuckled. "This Gryffindork knows a lot more than you think, Draco. As far as elegance goes, I could definitely school you."

The Slytherin smirked and raised one fine blond brow at him. "Is that a challenge, Potter?"

"No, it's a statement, Draco," Harry replied wistfully just as they stopped before his dorm.

He hissed the alternative password in Parseltongue at the portrait and smiled as he heard the telltale sound of Draco trying to stifle a moan. The portrait swung open and they stepped through. Harry led the way to his staircase on the left side of the room and beckoned the boy up.

Draco studied the interior of the Head Dorm and frowned. "I hadn't thought it would look so disgustingly Gryffindorish in here."

"Considering two Gryffindors are the Heads, I'm not surprised. It is a little tasteless, but what can you do with a Gryffindor headmaster and deputy headmistress?" Harry said with a shrug as he hung on the railing and waited for the blond to follow him.

Draco turned to him in surprise. "Tasteless, Potter? I thought you were the perfect little Gryffindork."

"Wouldn't hurt to have a little green in here," Harry said with a slow smirk at the look he was given. "Now come, before Hermione gets back."

The Slytherin shook his head and followed him with a snort. "You're unbelievable, Potter."

"That's why I'm so fun," chimed Harry.

They came upon the painting he had installed of a king cobra and he hissed the password again. Hermione and Ron tried to convince him to get rid of it but he wasn't budging. He didn't want them to see half the things he studied when he was alone. He doubted Draco would judge him or look at him as if he were the next Dark Lord, though.

The door opened and they stepped through to his neatly organized room. One side had a huge shelf full of all his prized books with furniture surrounding it. His king-sized bed was in the center of the room with the drapes pulled back and his Transfiguration book still lying there.

He knew Draco had seen his books when he heard him catch his breath and saw him standing next to the first half of the shelf. Harry turned to see him pull out a large black blank tome with fine red designs on the binder and knew it was one of his Parseltongue books.

Draco opened it and stared at it vacantly then turned to Harry. "I had no idea you were so fond of gibberish, Potter," he drawled sarcastically.

Harry rolled his eyes and took the book out of his hands and delicately put it back. "It's in Parseltongue. It looks like gibberish to someone who can't speak it."

"And where did you find a Parseltongue book? I thought there were only few that only Salazar Slytherin had in his vault; one that hasn't been opened for centuries," the blond said.

"The Black library had plenty of these books, they just didn't know what they were dealing with and same with Flourish and Blotts. People don't know how to recognize something like that if they can't speak the language," Harry explained as he crawled onto his bed. "Will you stop dawdling now and get over here?"

"Eager, Potter?" Draco said with a smug smirk. "You might as well enjoy it while you can. Don't expect this to become habit."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Draco. That's so monotonous. I like my life to be a little more spontaneous than that," Harry said as he patted his bed.

Draco rolled his eyes and got on the bed. "You are far from conventional, Potter."

Harry grinned and pounced on the blond as soon as he was settled on the bed, causing him to sprawl back on it and allowing Harry to straddle him. "Why, thank you, Draco."

"That wasn't a compliment," Draco grunted before Harry's lips covered his.

**000**

Harry stared at his ceiling as he enjoyed the afterglow. No, not necessarily enjoyed, but thought about it. Before, he had been exalted after the sex, but now it was just a dull pleasure.

The sex wasn't the bad thing. Far from it, actually. But he'd lost the excitement he felt after it; the need to do it again with Draco because the boy was always so delightful. Now he could do it with anyone else and get the same effects. Draco had lost his uniqueness and was just like everyone else to him. The whole thing that had drawn him to the blond in the first place was gone.

Harry looked over at Draco and saw that he was fast asleep. He couldn't blame this on him, though. He had known it would not last. That, soon, he would have to find something else to do to please himself.

Once again he turned back to the ceiling and contemplated on a solution that he would be happy with. There was nothing that would keep him happy for long; eventually, they would all become boring.

He knew what he wanted, that much was obvious. There was only one thing, or person, that would keep him satisfied for as long as he needed.

Voldemort.

Imagine that. The one person he'd always hated being the only one that could make him happy. There was no denying it, though. It was the truth.

Luckily, he also knew how to fix this problem of his. He'd read about it in passing during his studies. He had liked the idea and had retained the knowledge just in case he might want to try it sometime. And there was no better time to do so than now.

Waving a hand, Harry levitated the Parseltongue book he'd read it in from the last shelf. It was leather bound and was a beautiful forest green with intricate gold designs on the cover and binding. The words in black could roughly be translated in Latin as _**Moderamen Cosmicos**_. Controlling the Cosmos.

He'd read it in an effort to further his studies of the Shadows. There had been an extensive amount of information about it on that. He'd spent weeks on the book just trying to get through and perfect everything it had on the Shadows. And perfect he did. He hadn't even been lying to Draco about his elegance because it was true. He probably had more elegance than anyone else after the rigorous demands the Shadows had, for he needed to know how to move his body flawlessly before advancing on to the Shadows.

He could now control and manipulate the Shadows in a way no one had been able to do for centuries. He was now the Shadow Lord, as people who mastered it were called. There couldn't be another one until he died and he would not have been able to succeed had there been one either, though he had checked before he had attempted it.

Most people underestimated and misunderstood the importance of the Shadows, but he knew better. Probably out of almost all of his abilities, he would say it was his favorite. It had saved him many times during the war but no one had figured out he had it to this day, and he meant to keep it that way.

The book had everything in it about manipulating the forces of the world: spiritual, magical, and physical. It explained in detail what could be used in the world by any magical being. There were, of course, some things that were not meant to be touched, but many forces of the universe were there to be commanded by anyone who knew how.

It was information that was to be used delicately, though, because the book also explained that there were some factors against you when messing with the cosmos. The world needed to always be balanced. That was why Light could not exist without Dark and Dark without Light. If one did something that broke that balance, there would be grave consequences and the necessary actions would be taken to insure that balance was returned.

Harry didn't know what the consequences would be but he didn't want to be the one to find out. That was why he had to tread carefully when he performed the spell. He would have to think about it and study it thoroughly.

It was a good thing he had practice from when he did the same thing with the Shadows. He wouldn't let that make him too confident, though. That was just arrogance and he learned quite well what happened to overly arrogant people from Voldemort.

Harry opened the book and it immediately opened up to what he was looking for. He smiled. This was another reason he loved the book. Whoever had written it had made it so the book would open on whatever he was looking for, or something resembling what he was looking for.

He looked at the page and read some of the last paragraphs of information he wanted to be clear on. He remembered the rest of the spell.

_Syncrasis Res : Blending World_

_This is the fourth part of the incantation. Once these words are spoken, one will truly be a part of the specific world that will best suit them. Part of, not only in the sense that they will be in that world, but because of something that is much more complicated. While the spell transfers one to the world they will most be happy with or fit into, it also must ensure that there will be no conflict with the person's counterpart in that world. If their counterpart is dead (as can be the case with thousands of alternate worlds existing and with different circumstances in each), they will simply replace them and no one would be the wiser because even if they become their counterpart, they truly and completely aren't them. _

_However, in the case that said counterpart is alive, one will merge or blend with them. They wouldn't truly replace them, but they also wouldn't be separate from them. They will become one with them. The person who performs the spell would be the dominant but while within their counterpart's world, they will have all their knowledge, all their experiences, and even their feelings towards certain things mixed in with their own. One will also take on the appearance of their counterpart, only retaining few things that are unique to themselves. Sometimes a blend of things that are especially distinctive to the counterpart and the person may also occur. Most important, though, they will take on their blood and abilities. This will help if their counterpart is heir to a prominent family or has certain abilities distinctive to their blood._

_That is what most people fail to understand when it comes to delicate magic such as this. Many cannot accept the fact that they will not completely be themselves within the alternate world. While retaining everything they are, they will also be gaining more. They fail to see that this is not a setback but an advantage and this is why they cannot complete the spell. They are not ready for the implications and if one cannot truly embrace all that it comes with, they are setting themselves up for a catastrophe. One must tread very carefully when performing the spell and must be ready for all that is to come, to possibly become wholly another person._

Harry shut the book as he thought about it. He could see why some people would be scared to perform the spell. To forsake all that you have always been and to become one with someone that thought and felt differently from you was frightening and a big step for most.

But he could read between the lines and he could definitely work with what he was given; he had been doing it for as long as he could remember. The one who performed the spell would be dominant, after all. He knew what that meant. While he would get everything else from his counterpart—if he was alive—he could control it to some extent. Let it not be said that people were single-minded; they always argued with themselves, that's why decisions were always so hard to make.

So, there, he was embracing that. That left the matter of if he wanted to actually do this.

_Yes!_

Harry smiled amusedly. Of course, he should have known. It wasn't even a question worth entertaining. This existence wasn't even worth entertaining. He had to do something to rectify that or he would go insane. This was the best solution and he would be happy and he wouldn't need to drag all the people he loved into it.

That left lots of preparations, though. Not to mention, lots of explanations. He would need to get ready for his departure while readying others as well. He did not expect to come back, if that was even possible.

Well, at least he had something to excite him before he left this world for his next adventure.

For the first time in months, Harry could feel a grin of genuine happiness on his face as he thought about his plans.

* * *

**TERMS:**

**_Moderamen - _**controlling

**_Cosmicos_** - of the world

_Syncrasis _- blending

_Res _- world

* * *

Edited: 12/29/08


	2. Adieu

___**Hollow Thunder, Vital Lightning -**__Aariya_

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle

Genre: Drama, Romance, Fantasy, Action/Adventure

Summary: Life after Voldemort is ideal and perfect for everyone except the one who made it possible. Unbelievably bored and unhappy, Harry performs a spell that will take him to an alternate universe where he can be happiest with Voldemort. Even he hadn't expected the outcomes or how the spell would misinterpret his desires.

Warnings: _slash_; AU; Slytherin!Harry; Dark!Harry (sorta)...and another one I took out that you will have to figure out for yourself; it's kind of crucial to the plot so I can't tell you!

Spoilers: Compliant with first five books and includes information from six and seven.

**Disclaimer:** Didn't own Harry Potter last chapter, what makes you think I own it this chapter?

.-.

"HTVL" - English, or other human languages

_HTVL - Thoughts, Spells, Special Text (titles and such)_

_"HTVL" - Parseltongue, Incanted Spells, or a language within a language _

_**HTVL - Parselmagic (spells and the language in writing)**_

Chapter 2: Adieu

* * *

Sealing the letter, Harry turned to send it off with his waiting owl.

"Gringotts, girl," he instructed as he tied the letter to her talon.

Hedwig hooted softly and flew out the open window right next to him. Harry watched her go with a sense of satisfaction at the almost finished task and then finally got up to go prepare his farewell letters to his friends.

He told himself he was not being cowardly for not telling them face-to-face that he intended to leave on Halloween (Rather fitting, wasn't it?). He just wanted to avoid people trying to persuade him otherwise or using excuses like, "But you haven't taken your N.E.W.T.s yet!"

He imagined that to be Hermione's first words.

This was the last thing he had to do. Well, it would be after he got his reply from Gringotts. He had written his wills and what he wanted done with his possessions. He would keep any heirlooms and books he wanted and some of his money. But he distributed his houses and other things among his friends.

He doubted he needed all the wealth he'd inherited as Potter heir and the Black successor. Heck, the Potter inheritance itself was enough to let the whole Weasley family live off it in luxury for the rest of their lives and the Black one was even more! He'd never been one for material possessions anyway; there were far more important things in life.

It took Harry a long time to write his joint letter to Hermione and Ron, addressing each of them at separate times. At the end of it, he wished them luck on a happy married life, imagining, with a smirk, the fierce blushes that would adorn their faces once they read it. He didn't know whom they were trying to kid, though. Those two would be at the stage of exchanging baby names soon at the rate they were going.

Once he was done, he took a break from all the conflicting emotions going through him and headed to the library with a few of his own books. He was still studying the spell and trying to perfect it. After all, he didn't want anything to go wrong and then get stuck in limbo between his world and another. Just thinking about it sent shivers up and down his spine.

As he walked down the corridors of Hogwarts, he couldn't help reminiscing about his time spent at what he considered his first real home. He hoped he wouldn't have to abandon Hogwarts in whatever alternate universe he ended up in. He wouldn't be able to stand it if the majestic castle wasn't still standing wherever he ended up.

But considering the spell was supposed to take him somewhere he would be happy with, he doubted that would happen, even if what he would be happy with had nothing to do with Hogwarts. He had a feeling, though, so he wouldn't say his farewell to Hogwarts just yet.

Harry walked into the library and was not surprised to find it empty. It was a Hogsmeade weekend and the whole school had gone out during this joyous time. Dumbledore had taken it upon himself to bring joy to the students' lives after the war and now organized as many school events as he could, including the Masquerade Ball that was to take place on Halloween. It was partly the main reason he had decided to leave that day, with everyone being too distracted to notice what he would be doing.

Most of the students had gone out to shop for their dress robes and masks today. Harry, knowing he was not going to be there for it, had made the excuse that he would catalog order it and left his best friends to go on their own; Merlin knew they dropped enough hints about it.

He wasn't sorry that he was going to miss it either. He was tired of people coming up to him and asking him to be their date and then turning them down and telling them he already had one. Now his friends kept pestering him about who this mysterious date was, but he wouldn't give it up (not that there was anything to give up anyway).

When would they stop looking at him as the Vanquisher of Voldemort? Another lovely title to add to his already long list, never mind that it was precisely because of that that he was so unhappy with his current life.

"Potter, why am I not surprised?"

Harry looked up at the pale face of Draco Malfoy and tried to discreetly hide his open book. "And what do you mean by that?"

"Who would have known you were such a closet nerd?" Draco sneered. "Why aren't you in Hogsmeade with your jolly lot?"

Raising an eyebrow, Harry asked, "Why aren't you?"

Another sneer. It should just be licensed to the blond, he used it so much. Though it was a lot less harsh and unattractive than Harry had thought at first.

"If my idea of fine clothing meant shopping in a place called Gladrags, then, certainly, I would have gone. However, I'm no Weasley," Draco said superiorly.

"I see," was all Harry said before he turned back to his book.

There was silence for a while as Harry continued to ignore the boy and hoped he took the hint so he could go back to studying.

An exasperated sigh interrupted the hush, though.

"Merlin, Potter, you are absolutely no fun these days. All you ever do is stick your head in a book," Draco said, his tone coming out as a bit of a whine.

Harry turned to him with a smirk. "Are you saying you normally enjoy my company, Draco?"

Draco crossed his arms and sniffed indignantly. "Don't be a fool. I'm merely pointing out what a bore you are."

Harry gasped dramatically. "Draco, you wound me so. That is the worst insult anyone could ever give me. Gosh, I don't know how I'll ever pull out from below the mountain of hurt your words have crushed me under. Woe is me, woe is me."

He glanced up from where his hands were hiding his face and saw Draco looking thoroughly amused at his act.

"Do be quiet, Potter; you're an embarrassment to wizard-kind," the blond said, though he still looked amused.

Harry snorted. He sat up and straightened his glasses as he went back to his book. "Why don't you sit down? I don't want you hovering over me."

Draco frowned but moved to sit across from him anyway. "I was not hovering."

Harry nodded absently and went back to reading his book now that Draco couldn't see over his shoulder. He had altered the title so Draco would think it was just some boring book on history.

"Seriously, Potter, you have nothing better to do?" Draco finally drawled after a couple of moments of silence. Harry was surprised he had even lasted this long.

Harry finally sighed and closed his book. He would get nothing done now. "Do you want to go to my dorm?"

Draco seemed to brighten up instantly, but didn't show it outwardly. "And here I thought you didn't know how to be a gentleman."

Standing up, Harry pushed all of his books into his bag and led the way out of the library. He wondered what was wrong with Draco. The Slytherin never initiated their time together. Not that he was complaining, of course. He hadn't had time for pleasure since putting his plans into motion, even if he needed the time to study.

"What's up with you?" Harry finally asked when he noticed that Draco was silently fuming.

"Nothing," the boy practically growled.

"Whoa, no need to get your knickers in a twist," Harry said just as they reached the Head Dorm and wondered at the sudden change in attitude.

"Shut up and open the door, Potter."

"How can I open the door with my mouth shut?" Harry quipped but quickly did as he was told when Draco sent him a look that could kill.

Draco was aggressive when they finally got onto Harry's bed. He took control most of the time, as if he wanted to vent off his anger. Usually, Harry was the one who did most of the foreplay, but Draco seemed to want to take the lead this time.

Harry was all up for it until Draco tried to make him bottom, which wasn't going to happen. He was just fine with his arse untouched, thank you very much. Draco relented and let him top in the end because he was too frustrated to care and just wanted his release.

After, Harry was sure something had happened to Draco. Something that might have to do with some kind of relationship he was having, or even a friendship with benefits with someone else.

"You get dumped or something?" he asked insensitively. He hoped that would rile Draco up enough to make him slip.

"Shut up, Potter! You know nothing!" he hissed as he sat up speedily.

Harry held back his amusement. "Then why don't you explain it to me, my dear, fiery Dragon?"

"It's none of your business," Draco snarled with a withering glare sent his way. "Must I disillusion you every time, Potter? We're not _friends_, in case you've let this go to your head. I owe you nothing."

He didn't know why he felt any anger at the blond's words because Harry was certain he did not consider over pompous, Princess Malfoy his friend. Nevertheless, he could not help the rage that wanted to put the boy in his place. He forced himself to calm down instead and tightened his Occlumency shields to hide his emotions.

"All right," he said with an indifferent shrug. "Fair enough. I suppose it's time you left, though. The other students must be coming back."

Harry watched the Slytherin as he got off the bed and gathered his things. He spelled himself clean and dry and pulled on his clothes. Through it all, Harry got the distinct impression that he seemed disappointed and hinted slightly at a feeling of betrayal.

He was surprised to feel the same way towards the boy and wondered when their impartial feelings had gotten this far. And just when he was leaving, too. Oh, the irony.

Just before Draco reached for the door Harry called his name and got the most bored look in return. It was so typical of Malfoy that Harry almost believed there was nothing wrong with him.

"What?" he snapped when Harry didn't say anything for quite a while.

Giving him the gentlest smile he could muster, Harry replied, "Good luck on solving your problem."

Harry almost did a well-deserved victory dance at the stunned look on Draco's face. It was not every day one got to see the Malfoy mask drop so much so that it showed anything resembling surprise.

He was silent for a mere second before covering it up with his trademark sneer. "I don't have a problem, Potter. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go sanitize myself—filthy Gryffindork that you are."

"And yet, a mere thirty minutes ago you were screaming my name at the top of your lungs and singing my praises," Harry taunted.

Draco shot him a dirty look and opened the door. "Don't read into it too much. It's just sex."

Harry grinned and mock saluted. "Dutifully noted, sir. Not reading into it."

With a final sneer that Harry could tell didn't have any of that usual sting he knew Draco was capable of giving it, the pureblood teen left his room soundlessly.

Harry was left to his musings as he heard the portrait closing from the common room. He realized now what a messed up relationship he and Draco had. How it had gone from the simple mutual benefits they had both been aiming for to this, he had no idea.

He was even more surprised at the Slytherin and the feelings he had been giving off. Harry had not hated or disliked the boy for over a year when he had matured and seen past their silly school enmity. Draco, on the other hand, had never shown any affection toward him and had made it perfectly clear that he thought they were still rivals.

He could see now how that had been an act and Draco might have been afraid of another rejection from him. He almost felt bad thinking about that. He was quite fond of Draco if he admitted it. The boy was good company when he wasn't acting like a spoiled brat and the sex was a definite plus—not that that was all there was to it.

Well, now it was a little too late. He really didn't want to bother himself with what was going on with Draco, but he hoped the blond came out of it all right. Either way, he hoped he wasn't around to witness it. It was already hard enough knowing he would never again see his best friends, he didn't need one more person complicating things.

It would be much harder on his friends than on him but it was for the best. They wanted peace and quiet and he wanted the exact opposite. It was better for him to move on and seek out the next adventure before he sacrificed their happiness for his moment of adrenaline rush. He was sure they were getting fed up with the havoc that came along with being his friend.

Harry also thought that he should at least write Draco a farewell letter as well. The blond might even be happy since he was the next candidate for Head Boy.

Hearing the sounds of his best friends, Harry got out of the bed and quickly got cleaned up and dressed. He left his room and joined them in the common room where they were sprawled on the couch with a couple of bags around them.

"Hey, guys!" he called cheerfully, his act for friends who thought he was perfectly fine with life now. "How'd shopping go?"

Ron groaned. "Awful. I never want to shop again!"

"Don't be so dramatic, Ron," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "It wasn't that bad. A little crowded, but it was fun."

"Don't listen to her, mate. It was smart of you not to go," Ron argued.

Harry nodded knowingly, having done too much shopping over the summer and still hesitant about repeating the experience. "Why do you think I stayed back? Like I can stand any more people coming up to me and going 'You're Harry Potter!' Thanks, cause I was having an identity crisis before I met you."

Ron snickered while Hermione chastised him for some stupid reason like appreciating people's gratitude.

"Why don't we head down to dinner?" Harry interrupted as he noticed the time.

Ron immediately jumped on it and they were soon heading down to the Great Hall. Harry noticed they were one of the last people there as they entered and went to sit at the Gryffindor table.

He also had the feeling of being watched and his gaze fell on the Slytherin table where Blaise Zabini was giving him a look that could kill and to his right a certain blond was giving said boy the same look. Harry figured that this was probably the reason Draco had been so put off earlier. But what did Zabini have against him? Maybe he liked Draco and knew they were shagging.

Just to spite him, Harry smirked at the dark-skinned boy and then had the thought that most people did when they received that particular glare. If looks could kill…he would be dead, resurrected, and killed again.

**000**

Harry shrunk his final items and put them in his pockets before he looked around his almost barren room.

His bookshelf was completely empty, as it had contained all of his important books. He'd left behind a number of clothes that he didn't need the extra baggage of, deciding he would go shopping when he got the chance in the other world.

He'd taken his Invisibility Cloak and Marauder's Map. He'd also taken his Firebolt, not ready to part with such a valuable gift from his godfather. He also thought Ron could afford his own now that he'd left the Weasleys with practically more than enough to buy out the Chudley Cannons. It was a good thing he was leaving or they would have vehemently protested against any such _charity_. As if he could repay the acceptance and welcome they gave him into their family with something as petty as money—to him, at least.

Other little things he was leaving behind for anyone to call dibs on. He'd charmed all the letters he'd hidden to not be seen until he was completely out of this world, in case anything happened during the process. With the frantic way everyone was getting ready, though, he doubted they would have noticed even if he'd left it on the table in the common room.

Even in the Head Dorm it was chaotic. Some girls had been smart and had come to get ready in Hermione's room to avoid the mess that was Gryffindor Tower…that is until others had gotten the same idea and now it was just as bad.

The boys hadn't had such luck as Harry had locked his room and silenced it to drown out their frenzied yelling and pleas to let them in. It was all really annoying. He found that he hated it even more than when the Yule Ball had been happening.

Harry made sure he wasn't missing anything and finally decided it was time to leave. He'd hung out with his friends the whole day yesterday (much to their surprise as even they'd noticed his recent interest in books) so he didn't need to say his own personal farewells. He'd also readied the unused bathroom on the second floor after extensive cleaning. The rune circle was already drawn out and the incantations were so drilled into his head that he was probably saying it in his sleep.

Now all that was left was leaving the dorm without alerting anyone, which was easy enough. Securing his things, Harry pulled the Shadows around himself and Shadow Stalked—his very own way of Apparating, except much more pleasant, undetectable, and not restricted by Hogwarts, or any other wards since no one knew about it.

He ended up off to the side of the circle. He moved to check it over for a last time before proceeding. It seemed perfect, every rune etched in carefully and accurately. He needn't doubt himself as he had been quite proficient at this stuff once he'd grasped the concept, but it never hurt to be cautious.

He undressed and laid all his things around the circle where they were supposed to be, including Hedwig in her cage, with her own rune on her to help the process. He was supposed to be completely naked so the match would be done safely but he was also allowed to take some things along. Once naked, he cast some charms to make sure he was perfectly clean before stepping into the circle as well.

The effect was instantaneous. The circle glowed a dazzling gold color from where his feet touched it and traveled out and around the whole circle. He stared at it for a second before he remembered what he was supposed to do once it reached the last rune.

Taking a deep breath, he cleared his mind of the excitement he was feeling at finally doing this and started the Parselspell he was to incant.

_**"Biforis Res—" **_

The first rune in the circle, which was just where the tip of his feet were, glowed white. This was to open the portal between his world and all the other worlds. Not that it was this easy to open a portal, only in this spell was this possible.

He waited a moment before he felt the tingling sensation he was warned of in his feet then moved on.

_**"Quaestio Res—**__**" **_

The second rune, which was diagonal to his knees, glowed a misty gray. This one searched out all the potential worlds that would make him happy. It tried to match his desires to the closest one and it took longer than the first one. It was also more draining.

Used to the pain, he ignored the twitch in his forehead, and moved on as soon as the tingling in his knees came.

_**"Compositio Res—"**_

In the clockwise direction it was going, the third rune, which was next to his right hip, blazed a bright yellow. It was now finding the perfect match for him and the color it chose was significant and different for everyone. Not only did this hint at the type of person his counterpart was, but it showed how happy he was likely to be in the new world.

Looking at the color, he recalled with delight that yellow was a very good color. It meant he was very compatible with this other world and his counterpart was less likely to fight any joining as he himself probably wanted change as well. Well, it was a good thing he was rescuing them both.

His joy was short lived as a much sharper pain went through him. He wanted to hold his head but knew he couldn't. He wasn't supposed to move so he tried to communicate with the rune and tell it to send that bloody tingle already. When it came, he continued with much relief.

_**"Syncrasis Res—"**_

The fourth rune, located behind his spine, he couldn't see, but he knew it was glowing a lime green. This one would blend he and his counterpart together. It would assess how things turned out in the end and he hoped it tilted in his favor, though he wouldn't mind looking a little different, supposing his alter did look any different. But he was ready for this either way. He had to be or the results would not be pretty.

The first thing he noted was the increase in pain. The big increase. To go along with his headache, it seemed it was traveling down and was now aggravating his neck, making him want to stretch from side to side and twitch. He felt a blessing had come when his spine tingled almost pleasurably, as if to mock his pain.

_**"Iunctura Res—"**_

The fifth rune, just parallel to the third one was next to his left hip and glowed a deep indigo. He and his counterpart would be joining now, or prepared to fully join. He remembered how it was mentioned that this part was particularly painful.

And it was. Like a mother.

He clenched his teeth and waited to ride out the terrible feeling of vicious, tiny animals eating out his tissues. It felt like forever when the tingling in his left hip came.

**"**_**Obsignatio Res—"**_

The sixth rune, diagonal to his other knee and parallel to the second rune, was a rich red. This was the last one of the incantations that dealt with bonding their worlds. It sealed off the portal and built up the completion for the connection to his counterpart.

It was no wonder it hurt more than possibly anything else he had ever felt. This time his whole body was searing with white hot pain. He could hardly think straight as he tried to rein in his emotions and get over the pain. It felt as if his bones were being rearranged, and they could be for all he knew.

The prickle finally came and he could barely move on to finish the spell as he tried to ignore the pain in vain.

_**"Abigactum Deprehensio."**_

The final rune had actually been drawn over his heart the second he woke, as per the directions. He felt it the moment it glowed dark violet on his chest. The pain he had felt before paled in comparison to what he was currently feeling.

Harry was happy the instant he was done and collapsed onto the floor writhing in pain as the spell worked its magic. The intense burn on his chest went up and down his body, into his veins, and bubbled in his blood. It was so extremely unbearable that he welcomed the darkness that enveloped him as he passed out.

This part would erase all ties he had with this world. It would erase any detection on him, making it impossible for anyone to find him if they were looking for the person before the spell. Essentially, he was no longer Harry James Potter.

Elsewhere, in an alternate world, Hadrian Perseus Black was also convulsing in pain in his bedroom.

**000**

It was pure chaos in Albus Dumbledore's office as anyone who was close to Harry in any way poured in to talk about what had happened. The deputy headmistress was trying to restore order as they all talked at once.

Harry's best friends—the ones to alert them he had left and passed around the note—were in the corner comforting each other. Or more like Hermione was sobbing and Ron was trying to comfort her.

Finally, Albus decided to take action once he noticed everyone was there. Standing up, he cast a _Sonorus _and called for silence. The loud voice reverberated around the crowded office and silence immediately fell as they looked to the headmaster.

"My friends, I realize that you are all worried, but I implore you to please calm down and keep quiet," he began, gazing around at all the concerned faces. "I know I speak for all when I say that we will miss him, but if Harry thinks he will be happier wherever he has gone, I believe we should respect that."

"But you cannot mean that, Albus!" Molly Weasley cried out. Harry was like a son to her and she could not bear the thought of not knowing how the boy was doing.

Albus held up his hand to stop any further protests. "I do. Harry has done much for us, sacrificing his own happiness in the process. The least we owe him is our gratitude and well wishing. Even if we were to try to find him, it would be a futile attempt. He has left a note to me explaining what he has done and I know there is no way to reach him."

Remus Lupin gave a weary sigh and felt his heart clench at the thought of never seeing his cub again. How had they failed so miserably that they could not see he was so unhappy with his life? He didn't even think he deserved to be forgiven by James, Lily, and Sirius, least of all Harry. He should give him this much without interfering.

"I agree with Albus. If it's for Harry's happiness, we should not attempt to do anything. We should all be happy for him as well," he voiced, giving each of them a pointed look.

A couple of sobs went here and there but no one objected again as they all thought about the selfless emerald-eyed hero who had done much for them.

"What about this?" Ron spoke up softly, holding up the copy of Harry's will that they had received from Gringotts earlier. "Does he expect us to accept this?"

"I don't know where he has gone, but he apparently does not need that much money. There's not much you can do but accept it as there's no way to return it to him. Gringotts is very strict about legality," Albus replied, his eyes soft at thinking about the boy whom he thought of as a grandson. Really, his generosity was second to none.

Harry had donated ¾ of all his wealth. He'd given a lot to the Weasleys, including millions of galleons and four of his estates. Remus had been given riches and an estate belonging to James that had been a place the Marauders had frequently hung out, thusly dubbed the Marauder's Den. He and Tonks had also received a summer cottage in Spain.

Andromeda Black and her daughter had long been reinstated into the family ever since Harry's inheritance, but now Andromeda had been given back what share belonged to her. As had Narcissa Black, though the woman wasn't there with them. She was likely to get her letter at Malfoy Manor.

Harry had also set aside much for his best friends, claiming it his wedding gift to them. He had given them Potter Mansion itself and several getaways. The Weasley twins had gotten even more money from him and an already paid-for spot on Hogsmeade should they want to open another shop. The Order had been given Grimmauld Place and some money to help fund for it as had Hogwarts to help with orphaned or poor children. Considering who he was, he had a soft spot for orphans as he had also contributed to several charities.

They had known the boy had been filthy rich when he had come into his full inheritance but they just now realized the full breadth of it.

Molly was crying by now, chanting, "Merlin, bless that boy." Her husband rubbed her back and nodded along.

It seemed Harry could not do anything without impacting everyone else around him and once again putting them in his debt.

Once news of this got out, though, the reporters would be on them like dogs.

* * *

**TERMS:**

**_Res _- **world

**_Biforis_** - having two doors or openings

**_Quaestio - _**seeking, searching

**_Compositio - _**putting together

**_Syncrasis_** - blending

**_Iunctura - _**a joining, joint

**_Obsignatio_** - a sealing, sealing up

**_Abigactum _**- to banish, be rid of

**_Deprehensio _**- detection

* * *

Edited: 12/29/08


	3. The Other Side

_**Hollow Thunder, Vital Lightning -**__Aariya_

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle

Genre: Drama, Romance, Fantasy, Action/Adventure

Summary: Life after Voldemort is ideal and perfect for everyone except the one who made it possible. Unbelievably bored and unhappy, Harry performs a spell that will take him to an alternate universe where he can be happiest with Voldemort. Even he hadn't expected the outcomes or how the spell would misinterpret his desires.

Warnings: _slash_; AU; Slytherin!Harry; Dark!Harry (sorta)...and another one I took out that you will have to figure out for yourself; it's kind of crucial to the plot so I can't tell you!

Spoilers: Compliant with first five books and includes information from six and seven.

**Disclaimer:** Read this, then go read Harry Potter—the differences will make you laugh!

.-.

"HTVL" - English, or other human languages

_HTVL - Thoughts, Spells, Special Text (titles and such)_

_"HTVL" - Parseltongue, Incanted Spells, or a language within a language _

_**HTVL - Parselmagic (spells and the language in writing)**_

Chapter 3: The Other Side

* * *

He was slightly surprised to find himself on a very comfortable bed when he came to. He also noticed that he was fully clothed in black silk pajamas. And that he wasn't wearing glasses but could see perfectly.

Then he remembered what he had done and sat up all the way and looked around him, his face breaking out into a wide grin.

He was in a large room decorated mostly in green and gold. The bed was covered in green silk and bigger than anything he'd ever seen before. The duvet was a checkered gold and green and his drapes were dark green. There was a large golden hearth on the left side of the room surrounded by black leather couches and bookshelves were built into the walls around it, filled with more books than he'd ever had in his dorm.

He wondered where Hedwig was and was given an image of an Owlery. His books had also been added to the bookshelf and his clothes put in the closet. Hmm. What a thorough spell. The beauty of Parselmagic.

Finally, his eyes fell on the large full body mirror on the wall right in front of the bed. Excited, he got out of the bed and went over to look at his new appearance. He didn't look _too_ different, he supposed. Though no one who knew him would recognize him, he could still see parts of himself in there.

He was the same height as before, except now his body was a little more slender and lithe than his previously toned one. His emerald eyes seemed even more exotic. They were so bright they practically glowed, appearing as though they had been mixed with a lighter color. They were slanted up a bit more than he was used to, though not by much.

The biggest change was the silky long hair that fell to his back. It was so perfectly straight he was reluctant to call it his, never having seen such tame hair on his head before, even after he had grown it. The hair was so dark it looked blue when the light hit it.

Everything else remained the same. The same pale skin, the same high cheekbones, and the same nose, lips, and thin face. Still, his features were more delicate than they ever were. His hands weren't half as callus as they ought to be. He thought he looked a bit effeminate, probably accentuated by the hair. At least he wasn't petite or anything.

Harry…wait that wasn't his name any more, was it? He knew the knowledge of his name was there somewhere so he thought about it for a second and was immediately given an answer.

"Hadrian Perseus Black," he intoned, trying to get accustomed to the name, though some part of him was already well-acquainted with it. "I'm a Black, huh? Wonder who my parents are."

Once again, the answer came to him. He saw a young, beautiful, blonde woman with mercury eyes. She looked like a Malfoy and he knew he was right when her name came to him as well. Adrianna Black, née Malfoy. He figured he was named after his mother, whom he suddenly felt an overwhelming amount of love for.

The image of his father came to him as well. He was a tall man with ink black hair as dark as his and gray eyes like Sirius. In fact, he looked like a more imposing, well-groomed version of Sirius with short hair. Regulus Black. He felt love for him as well, though not as much as his mother. There was more pride in there.

He remembered seeing another Regulus on the Black tapestry other than Sirius's brother. He hadn't seen any children branching out from Regulus, though. His parents were young in wizarding standards, both of them barely forty, he was probably their only child. And yes, he was, now that he thought about it.

This was a bit strange, but nothing he hadn't been warned of. So what if he suddenly felt love for people he didn't and did know all of a sudden? It wasn't like he was in any position to reject loving, _live_ parents. Merlin only knew he had been craving for them for as long as he could remember. And this would probably keep happening as he met more people he knew.

Hm, confusing thought.

He turned to the door when it swung open gently. The same beautiful woman he had just reflected on was standing there in royal blue robes with half of her hair pinned in the back. He felt his heart clench at the unexpected rush of love he felt for this woman. He gaped at her for a while as she stared back at him appraisingly.

"Hadrian, darling," she finally broke the silent staring contest with a concerned tone, "how are you feeling? Are you still sick?"

He blinked in surprise and chastised himself as he realized what he had been doing. He had to get used to these strong emotions soon or he would be caught off guard whenever he met someone Hadrian loved.

He should also start thinking of himself as Hadrian considering they were now one and the same. Hadrian must have been going through the same agony Harry had been so it was understandable that his mother thought he was sick.

"No, mother," he found himself saying, his voice sounding too soft to his own ears. "I'm perfectly fine now."

Adrianna gracefully walked over to him and pinned her eyes on him. Once in front of him, she touched his forehead. He hadn't known he would relish the feeling of her warm hand on his head so much, or the way she parted his hair gently.

A soft gasp came from her and he saw even more concern on her face. "Hadrian, where did this scar come from?" she asked.

Bewildered, Hadrian turned around to look into the mirror again. He was a little shocked to see his lightning bolt scar innocently resting upon his forehead. Then he remembered the passage:

_One will also take on the appearance of their counterpart, only retaining few things that are unique to themselves. _

His scar was the most unique thing about himself that he knew, other than his eyes. It didn't matter anyway. This was his link to Voldemort and he would most likely run into Voldemort here, as that was what he had asked for.

He turned back to his mother's apprehensive visage and lied, "I don't know. I'm just seeing it now as well."

That didn't placate her at all, worrying her even further. She grabbed his arm and pulled him along. "Come, your healer will be here soon and he must have a look at that," she said firmly.

"I'm okay, mother. It doesn't even hurt," he tried to reason but was completely ignored and dragged along the long, lavish corridor.

Adrianna shook her head adamantly, her blonde hair swaying with her movements. "Nonsense. I will not have anything befall my precious son."

He couldn't argue any longer as that set off an unbelievable amount of warmth to course through his body. He'd never felt so loved in his life and he basked in it shamelessly. This is what others with mothers had had all their lives. Now it seemed Fate was giving back what she had taken from him.

_I might be able to forgive you because of this after all you've put me through, _he silently conveyed to the constant force in his life.

"Sit."

Hadrian was brought out of his musings at the command and he looked around him as he sat on the armchair. He was in another large room that was elegantly decorated in dark red and royal blue. He quickly learned that it was their manor's drawing room.

The hearth was of a rich mahogany and the fire was on, though he understood it was the fourth of August. He realized why that was when it blazed green for a second and a figure came out of it. It was a tall, handsome man with chocolate brown hair and warm amber eyes. He was young, around his twenties, and he walked toward him with an air of confidence and seductiveness.

Why he was walking like that was confusing even to Hadrian, though Harry realized that the healer must be putting on a show for him. It was obvious when the man, Healer Raphael Lazare, took his hand lightly and placed a delicate kiss upon it. Apparently this was normal for Hadrian but Harry confirmed that this man had something for him. How oblivious could his counterpart have been?

"My dear, Hadrian, I hear you are not well," he said silkily.

Hadrian realized he was speaking in another language almost immediately, having mastered talking in Parseltongue anytime he wanted. He also saw that he understood it perfectly. It wasn't until he tried to figure out why that was that he recognized it as French. And that they lived in France.

He decided to think about that later and instead preened under the attention the man was giving him but didn't show it outwardly. "I'm fine. Mother, on the other hand, believes something is wrong with me."

"Don't listen to him. Check him, Raphael," his mother insisted.

Raphael looked from mother to son in amusement. "I'm afraid mother knows best, my dear," he told Hadrian and winked at his mother.

Hadrian barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. He was so transparent it was sickening. "Very well, do what you must," he said, waiting for the healer to take action.

Raphael ran diagnostics and poked and prodded him for a while. He also touched him unnecessarily at times, but finally reassured his mother, "He seems healthy, Madame Black."

Adrianna would not relent, though. "Take a look at that scar on his forehead. Can you tell me anything about it?"

Raphael parted his bangs and lightly ran his thumb across it. "I have never seen this, my dear. And I should know, being your personal healer. How did you come upon it, Hadrian?"

Hadrian wished he would stop touching him as if he were his lover. "I don't know. I woke up and it was there."

"Hmm," the healer said contemplatively before raising his wand and casting some more spells on it.

Hadrian waited patiently, knowing that he would find nothing. He just hoped it wasn't recognized as a curse scar, though he doubted it would be since they had probably never seen one like it before.

"All looks well, Madame. I don't know how he got it but there isn't any internal bleeding or anything of the sort," Raphael finally declared. "He is perfectly fine."

She didn't look entirely convinced and Hadrian jumped in to assure her, feeling her concern unbearable. "I'm okay, mother. Honest."

She studied his face before she sighed in defeat. "All right, I'm willing to take your word for it. You have never lied to me before," she said.

He almost felt guilty for lying to her. But he knew it was necessary so he ignored it.

"But promise me you will tell me if you feel anything less than perfect," she said, though it was clearly an order and she wouldn't take no for an answer.

"I promise," he said.

Raphael watched them fondly, looking as if he were used to this and Hadrian knew that he was.

"Well, if that is all, I must be going. Call me if anything happens," he said, then looked intently at Hadrian. "I will be back to check on you before you leave for school, my dear."

Hadrian nodded and gave him a small smile. "Okay. Thank you, Raphael."

The man chuckled and patted him on the shoulder. "Oh, it is nothing. Anything for you, my dear."

Hadrian wondered how hard it would be to get this man in his bed. He was certainly handsome enough for his tastes. But he did like a challenge and Raphael seemed ready to jump him in front of his own mother.

"Thank you, Raphael," his mother reaffirmed, her face losing all its previous anxiety. "We'll be sure to call you when necessary."

The healer nodded, kissed Adrianna's cheeks and Hadrian's hand again, then took his leave. Hadrian saw that his mother looked amused and was watching after the man. He thought she probably knew how the man felt about him as well.

"He never gives up, huh?" he asked, switching back to English.

She turned to him in surprise. "You know?"

He snorted and stood up from his seat. "Come, mother, you do not think me to be so blind, I hope."

"You certainly have not shown any insight on any of your other admirers," she said, her tone sounding amused.

"And whom are you referring to?" he asked, trying to check his memories for anyone who might like him. But it seemed his counterpart had been as clueless about everyone else as he had been about Raphael so he came up with nothing.

"Well, there is Lord Antoine of Degare, who seemed quite attached to you during your Coming of Age. Let's not forget your ever-zealous classmate, Cosette. Half the people at the annual Winter Solstice Ball are devoted to you. Darling, you have too much to count at this time. I'm afraid you have been burdened with your dear mother's beauty," she said with an indulgent sigh.

Hadrian couldn't help smiling at that. "I believe I carry the burden quite well considering I fooled even you into thinking I was oblivious to their attention."

"Indeed you have; you are, after all, your father's son as well. He was always the only one who could hide anything from me," Adrianna said with a fond smile. "Why don't you change out of those clothes and come down for breakfast? We are going to London today, as you know."

He nodded and easily navigated the corridors and stairs to his room. He thought about his counterpart's life and tried to see what kind of life he lived so far.

Okay, they were in France. Why? Because his father had become apprenticed to a French Ward Mage right after leaving Hogwarts and had met his mother in France and fallen in love. Was his father a Ward Mage now? Yes, but he wasn't so active any more, instead starting his own business for anyone who needed help with wards and teaching others as well. Including his own son, he saw with pleasure.

Speaking of Hogwarts, did he even attend his beloved school? No, apparently not. He went to Beauxbatons, where his mother used to attend and had wanted him to go. He was disappointed with this information to say the least.

How was he supposed to meet Voldemort if they didn't even live in the same country? Now that he thought about it, was Voldemort even around? It was 1944, he noticed.

This thought shocked him and he stopped in his search for adequate robes.

"What the hell!" he cried, wondering why the spell thought he would be most happy with a seventeen-year-old Voldemort. Or Tom Riddle now.

What excitement could he possibly provide if he wasn't even going to be the Dark Lord he would fight?

_Why do you have to fight him? _

"What else am I supposed to do with an evil Dark Lord? Become his best friend or something?" he asked with a snort.

He didn't know where these persistent thoughts kept coming from but they should have stopped when he left his world. At least he had hoped they would stop. Evidently, that was not the case.

_But he isn't a Dark Lord yet. You could stop that from happening._

"And who am I supposed to fight if he doesn't become the Dark Lord?" he asked that annoying voice.

He realized he was being selfish by wanting a Dark Lord around but how else would Voldemort, or Tom, bring excitement into his life if they weren't fighting?

_There's always Grindelwald_. _I do believe he was second only to Voldemort himself._

"He would be around now wouldn't he? I hadn't thought about him," Hadrian mused, remembering the Dark Lord before Voldemort. "But Dumbledore will be defeating him next year."

He thought about the war and was not given much information. Hadrian was a pureblood and Grindelwald rallied for purebloods. His family did not even oppose him, though they did not help either, which he was thankful for. Grindelwald was a threat in the wizarding world and especially in Germany and maybe France since it was right next to it. There wasn't much else that his counterpart knew about it, not one to care much for violence.

The spell had to have had a good reason for thinking he would be most happy with Voldemort here. He knew he hadn't done it wrong so he only had to be patient about it. For the time being, he had to get to Hogwarts if he wanted to be near the excitement.

He knew his father wouldn't mind as he had always wanted him to go to his old school. His mother might mind but would eventually relent because she spoiled him rotten. It was time to capitalize on that.

That decided, Hadrian picked out black robes with crimson designs embroidered on the cuffs and down to his waist on the right side. He left his room once he was ready and went in the direction of the dining hall.

When he entered, his parents were already seated at the head of the table and he sat to his father's right after exchanging good mornings and smiling at his mother. They conversed for a while until Hadrian thought it was safe to make his request.

"Mother, father," he said softly, finally having realized it was the way his counterpart actually talked.

The boy was practically his opposite in disposition. Where the old Harry (the one after he had started training for Voldemort's defeat) hadn't been afraid to say whatever the hell he wanted and make his presence known, his counterpart had been complacent and more introverted, preferring to speak when he had to. Harry also loved to be in the middle of the action, or was the one instigating it while Hadrian was more closed in and preferred to be near his books and liked it quiet.

Both parents turned curiously to their only child, knowing he had something important to say as he never talked during meals unless it was to make his opinions known or he was addressed.

Hadrian steadily gazed into both of their eyes and spoke determinedly, "I wish to attend Hogwarts."

The surprise was evident on both their faces before they hid it behind masks. They knew it was serious because he never looked people straight in the eye when he spoke, much less said anything with that much resolve.

It was his mother who answered first. "Why is that, darling? Are you not happy with Beauxbatons?"

He frowned slightly as he thought about that. The school wasn't bad but, as far as he was concerned, it was no Hogwarts and it didn't even hold a candle to it.

"It's not that I'm unhappy with it. I feel quite impartial to it, actually. Hogwarts sounds much more like my ideal school," he replied.

"What brought this on? It's your last year, why do you wish to go now?" Regulus asked. He didn't sound disapproving or argumentative, only interested.

"I've always wanted to go to Hogwarts," Hadrian admitted and let some of his own admiration for the castle shine through. "I've grown up hearing about it from you, father, and from my cousins. I didn't want to be bothersome by asking to go there the other years but, since it is my last year, I want to have the chance of attending it."

Adrianna's eyes warmed and she smiled softly at him. "Oh, dear, you shouldn't have worried about being bothersome. Anyone who knows you would know you are incapable of it—you who would sacrifice your needs to avoid being inconvenient to anyone. Wherever you go, I do not mind."

Hadrian turned to his father as he put down his utensils and wiped his mouth calmly. His eyes were radiant with pride and pleasure, however, as he said, "I certainly do not mind. You know I have always wanted you to go to Hogwarts."

"Yes, of course," he replied in relief. "Thank you, mother, father. I will not forget this."

"Think nothing of it. You know we would do anything for you," his mother said.

"I shall owl the school once we are in London. I am sure they will not reject you. For now, we are expected at your grandparent's," Regulus said as he stood up.

Hadrian and his mother stood up with him and followed him out of the dining hall and to the drawing room. Hadrian wondered if they were going to Grimmauld Place and how it looked before it had become the gloomy place he had known it to be. Once again, he was given an answer by just thinking of it.

No, Grimmauld Place was from Sirius's mother's side of the family, not his father's, who was Hadrian's cousin, Orion, and whose father, Arcturus, was his father's brother. His grandparents owned Black Manor in a much more wizard populated town in London. Arcturus lived in the same town and his daughter, Lucretia, was getting engaged to Ignatius Prewett today so the whole family and all the other respected pureblood families were gathering at the manor for the ball.

Hadrian was brought out of his memories when he heard his father saying, "Black Manor!"

Adrianna turned to him and ushered him to go ahead. He took the Floo powder, threw it into the fire, stepped in, and clearly said, "Black Manor!"

When he was thrown out of the other side, it was in a drawing room decorated in pale blue and white with his father standing off next to him and spelling his robes clean. His mother came out gracefully after him and calmly cleared herself of the soot.

A house-elf popped in once all three of them were ready.

"Welcome, Messieurs, Madame," he said in a squeaky voice as he bowed to them. "Master Sirius and Mistress Hesper are waiting for you in the family room."

No one seemed inclined to thank the elf as his parents swept out of the room without even glancing at it. It was to be expected of purebloods but he would not change his ways just because he was a pureblood now.

"Thank you," Hadrian told him before following his parents.

It seemed they were the last to arrive because the family room was packed once they came in. Hadrian could easily see thirty people or more in there and it was only the family.

He was accosted by two younger boys the moment he stepped in. They both looked fifteen and his memory immediately told him who they were. The one who looked remarkably like Sirius was none other than his godfather's father, Orion Black. The other one was Cygnus Black, father of Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa.

"Hey, Hadrian!" Orion cried, excitedly hugging him.

Hadrian was a little surprised since he hadn't thought he would be so affectionate. Nevertheless, he returned the hug and soon saw that he was the boy's favorite cousin.

"Hello, Orion, Cygnus," he said with a smile at the other boy. "Excuse me, I must greet grandmother and grandfather."

"Yeah, sure. Just meet us back here," Orion ordered as Hadrian made his way over to the front of the room.

After enthusiastic greetings from his grandparents, great-aunt, his aunts, and Lucretia, Hadrian escaped to return to his cousins, who were joined by others, including Sirius's vile mother, Walburga.

He met the uncle who had been blasted off the tapestry for helping his godfather after he had run away, too. Alphard was the same age as he was and even more outgoing than Orion, with the same sense of humor as his nephew and very touchy-feely. He was willing to bet he had helped Sirius just to spite his sister.

Hadrian also was disturbed to note that Walburga was practically throwing herself at him. He knew pureblood families intermarried and that Walburga would eventually marry Orion, but he was more than a little disgusted when it finally registered in his brain. Not to mention, he wasn't even interested in girls that way. He was very thankful when it was time for the ball to start and he could escape her.

His father pulled him away from his cousins and took him upstairs to change and talk to him before the guests would arrive.

"I have received a reply from Hogwarts," he told him once they were in a room together.

He handed him the parchment and Hadrian took it with surprise.

"Already?" he asked. He read the paper through quickly and smiled at the end of it. "It's that easy to get in?"

Regulus gave him an amused smile in return and crossed his arms haughtily. "How can they possibly reject my brilliant son, who has always been at the top of his year? They'd be hard-pressed to ignore your perfect scores."

He had reckoned the old Hadrian was a complete bookworm the moment he'd looked through his memories, but he had not known it could result in this. It made everything so much easier.

"This is great. When are we going to get my supplies?" Hadrian asked, holding up his supply list.

"We will be staying here the entire weekend so you can accompany your cousins to Diagon Alley," Regulus replied.

He moved over to a closet and, after shuffling through it for a while, he threw emerald robes at Hadrian who caught it and looked at it, admiring the nice color and the gold designs on it. His father took out a dark green one with gold accents. So they were going to match…no, it was their family colors, green from his father's side and gold from his mother's side.

Hadrian slipped out of his robes and put on the new ones while his father did the same. His mind was already wandering off and thinking about Hogwarts and he couldn't control the excitement that was bubbling through him. He wondered how different things would be in a Hogwarts fifty-three years in the past and in an alternate world.

"Come, Hadrian, the guests are arriving," his father told him before he left the room without waiting for him.

Hadrian followed dutifully and they met his mother on the way to the stairs. He thought she looked like the most gorgeous woman in the world wearing gold robes with dark green detail. She smiled at him and took his father's offered elbow.

As was custom, they went down the stairs as a pair first and then he followed down. He vaguely registered their announcement by the herald as he scanned the hall. It was teeming with guests who had already come, all dressed regally and in family colors. He found that he knew each and every family, their crest, and the significance of their colors.

Harry had been to formal parties before, of course, as it was impossible to avoid after he defeated Voldemort, but he was not accustomed to a pureblood-only gathering. Hadrian, on the other hand, was quite used to it and had been attending them since he could walk. He even liked it, contradicting the part of him that hated formal parties and balls. He was the perfect little pureblood it seemed.

His parents exchanged pleasantries with anyone they came across and he was surprised to note that his mother's warmth was completely gone in the presence of these people, though a part of him was used to this. He should have expected it since Draco's mother was exactly the same in public and practically coddled the Slytherin in private.

Hadrian had to go through his fair share of acting as he politely greeted people he knew. When he finally got a chance, he joined his cousins and the others his age that he also seemed to know fairly well.

"'Adrian!" A French girl with light brown hair and lively blue eyes practically pounced on him the moment he came within range.

Searching his memory, he saw that this was the 'zealous classmate,' Cosette Rousseau.

"Cosette, how are you?" he asked with a patient smile and a kiss to both her cheeks.

She flushed easily, but hid it quickly. "I'm well. I 'aven't seen you since your birthday; you look different."

"I've been trying to figure that out, too," Orion spoke up.

Hadrian almost panicked, thinking that they had seen changes in the merge. "What do you mean?" he asked with a raised brow.

"It's his posture," someone said to Hadrian's left. He turned to look at a tall, handsome boy with intense dark eyes and black hair that swept to one side of his face and fell into his eyes. "He carries himself more confidently now."

Inwardly, Hadrian breathed a sigh of relief. That was understandable and easily explained. "How did I move before?"

"Elegantly, gracefully," Cosette replied with a wistful sigh. "I can see what you mean now, Cassius. You look more like your father, 'Adrian. Regal and princely."

He turned to her amusedly. "I had no idea you were so interested in my father, Cosette. I'm afraid he's taken, though."

"Don't worry, _mon cher_, you are the only one I 'ave eyes for in Beauxbatons. Outside it, you will 'ave to contend with any others," she replied with a sly smile.

"That reminds me," Hadrian said, "I won't be going back to Beauxbatons this year."

That immediately got everyone's attention on him. Cosette looked like she was about to cry and a couple of others he guessed went to school with him looked upset.

"Why not?" Alphard asked in surprise. "Is your father teaching you?"

Hadrian smiled before answering them with excitement, "I've transferred to Hogwarts."

The next thing he knew, he was stumbling back from the combined weight of Orion and Alphard as they enthusiastically jumped on him.

"Yes! This is going to be great! It's about time you joined us, Hadrian!" Orion cried.

Hadrian patted them and chuckled lightly. "Okay, guys. You can let me go now."

"Don't disgrace us with your undignified behavior," Walburga snapped.

Hadrian thought she was just mad she had already graduated from Hogwarts and wouldn't be seeing him. He was infinitely thankful for that.

The rest of the time before the ceremony and lunch was spent talking about Hogwarts. Orion and Alphard were particularly forthcoming in their information and he had to hide his boredom and urge to snap that he already knew everything they were telling him. He was very glad when it was time everyone went into the special room prepared for the engagement.

Hadrian decided he did not like engagement ceremonies one bit. It proved to be one of the most boring ordeals he had ever gone through. All they did was talk and negotiate and exchange rings. He hoped weddings were more fun as that actually involved magical bonding. The wedding was announced for the day before the Winter Solstice Ball, which would also be held at Black Manor for the first time in a century. That guaranteed the attendance of every Dark pureblood in the world as the Solstice was the most important event on their calendar, on par with Yule. They were sure going out of their way for the joining of the Blacks and Prewetts.

During lunch and the subsequent mingling before everyone left, Hadrian found that his mother had not been kidding. He'd lost count of the number of people who had come up and flirted with him in the last hours. And he'd thought he'd had enough of this as Harry Potter. Not that he was complaining too much, though—there were some really eye-catching wizards here.

When all of the guests took their leave and all that were left were cousins staying over the weekend, Hadrian crawled into his bed and dreamt up all the wonderful things he would be up to once he started Hogwarts. And met Tom Marvolo Riddle.

His life would always be adventurous it seemed, whether he was Harry Potter or Hadrian Black.

* * *

Edited: 12/30/08


	4. Shadow Dance

_**Hollow Thunder, Vital Lightning -**__Aariya_

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle

Genre: Drama, Romance, Fantasy, Action/Adventure

Summary: Life after Voldemort is ideal and perfect for everyone except the one who made it possible. Unbelievably bored and unhappy, Harry performs a spell that will take him to an alternate universe where he can be happiest with Voldemort. Even he hadn't expected the outcomes or how the spell would misinterpret his desires.

Warnings: _slash_; AU; Slytherin!Harry; Dark!Harry (sorta)...and another one I took out that you will have to figure out for yourself; it's kind of crucial to the plot so I can't tell you!

Spoilers: Compliant with first five books and includes information from six and seven.

**Disclaimer:** Wishful thinking will get me nowhere so I will have to credit Harry Potter to the true genius, J.K. Rowling.

.-.

"HTVL" - English, or other human languages

_HTVL - Thoughts, Spells, Special Text (titles and such)_

_"HTVL" - Parseltongue, Incanted Spells, or a language within a language _

_**HTVL - Parselmagic (spells and the language in writing)**_

Chapter 4: Shadow Dance

* * *

There was a lot of loud chatter this year, Tom noticed as he took his seat at the head of the Slytherin table. The Slytherins were not known for a lot of talk, especially at the start of term feast since they had to make a good impression for the first years. Something had to be up to excite them this much.

He discreetly looked around the rest of the hall to see how the other Houses were acting. As he had suspected, it was only the purebloods who were acting this way. Or the true purebloods anyway. Not having too much connection to the wizarding world during the summer, he wondered what was going on.

Tom turned to his fellow seventh years and saw that Alphard Black was even more obnoxious than usual. While Alphard was one of his associates and the boy rightfully deferred to him, Tom thought he acted like a filthy Gryffindor at times. His younger brother, Cygnus, was more mature than him.

Deciding it was time to put a stop to their uncouth behavior, Tom leveled them with a cold look. "Ranting a bit much today, hmm?"

Quite a few of them looked abashed at being reprimanded by their leader and quickly put on their Slytherin mask. Satisfied, Tom turned to his right-hand, Renatus Lestrange, and gazed at him pointedly.

Renatus, of course, knew what Tom was silently asking and replied, "They are excited about the transfer student from Beauxbatons. Orion's first cousin, Hadrian Black. We found out about it at Lucretia's engagement and he will be a seventh year. It's all anyone can talk about."

As usual, he answered any questions Tom might have asked and anything he hadn't answered he didn't know about. Tom took a brief second to admire his work before he contemplated on this new information. Another Black would be good to add to his plans. Hopefully, this one would be as promising as Cygnus and not so inclined to goofing off like Alphard.

"Think he's going to get Sorted with the first years?" He heard Julius Avery ask Abraxas Malfoy.

"Possibly," the Malfoy heir replied.

"Hadrian is most definitely a Ravenclaw."

Tom turned to the other hushed conversation between Cygnus, his girlfriend, Druella Rosier, and a few of the other fifth years down the table.

"Yes, I suppose," Druella was saying. "He also comes across as a Hufflepuff to me."

Orion jumped in, "Hadrian is certainly no Hufflepuff. Yes, he's nicer than most people but I will have to go with Cygnus on this one. He's a Ravenclaw through and through."

Abraxas rolled his eyes at the fifth years' conversation. "They do not know Hadrian very well. He's just like his mother: a master at disguising his character. A true Slytherin if I ever saw one."

Tom turned to the boy at his left and raised a brow. "Are you related to him as well?"

"We are first cousins from his mother's side," Abraxas replied.

This definitely gave Tom more thought. Not only was he a Black, but also a Malfoy. If he was anything like his cousins, he would be easy to reel in with pureblood propaganda. Tom would have to see if he was worth the trouble first.

"There seems to be some disagreements concerning his House. Are you so sure someone suspected of being a Hufflepuff will survive in Slytherin?" he asked Abraxas.

It was Alphard who answered instead. "Trust me, Hadrian is definitely not a Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw is the best bet."

Tom barely kept himself from snarling at the eccentric boy. He settled for a warning glance. "I do believe I was addressing Abraxas."

At least he had the decency to look shamed. "My apologies, Tom."

Tom did not like the way his Slytherins were starting out the year. If they continued to act out of line, he would have to train them all over again. While it was entertaining to watch them squirm under his gaze, it would interfere with the progress of his plans. They would be sorry if that happened.

A hush befell the Great Hall as the first years were brought in. As had been the case since the war began, there were not as many first years as the previous years. It wasn't as bad as it was in the other European countries but Grindelwald had started to bring the war to the British Isles lately. Possibly to draw out Dumbledore. Tom hoped the meddlesome old coot would be dead soon and stop breathing down his neck.

He noted the absence of the transfer student as he watched the first years huddle around in front of the Sorting Hat.

Then he felt it. A strong aura that seemed to envelope him and call to his magic. It was rolling over him in beautiful waves and was _oh so _intoxicating. This aura was like a companion to his; it made his magic purr with delight as it caught his attention.

Tom could tell it was masked, but, strangely enough, he could still feel it. He looked around to try to pinpoint the direction it was coming from and his eyes fell on the High Table. Besides the professors, there was no one else there.

Squinting, he thought he saw something moving in the shadows behind the professors' seats. Certainly his eyes couldn't be deceiving him. It appeared as though the shadows themselves were melting around someone's form. Tom had always been able to detect magical signatures from anything and he could tell when it was a person as opposed to a creature or an object so he was positive this was a wizard.

He'd never felt this way before around anyone. He'd met some powerful wizards and witches whose auras made him aware of them, but Tom had never had the urge to be close to them. Dumbledore's, for example, was oppressive and made him want to get away from him. This, though, he could bask in for as long as he wanted and his magic would still be humming excitedly like this.

The Sorting flew by as Tom continued to watch that magnetic area and, before he knew it, Headmaster Dippet was standing up to make his usual announcements. He ignored this as he never even listened to those rules anyway. However, everyone perked up at the new twist in the speech.

"And this year, we have with us a most pleasant surprise coming to us from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Please welcome another addition to our school, Hadrian Black," the eccentric headmaster revealed with barely concealed enthusiasm.

Tom was not surprised to see that someone was stepping from the shadows of the place he had been watching. In spite of knowing a person had been there, he was not immune to the astonishment that came with seeing the transfer student for the first time.

He had to school his face to show utter indifference as his eyes roved the sight of the boy. He was bloody _gorgeous_. Tom decided that he was the most beautiful being he had ever seen. He caught his breath as he saw the most bewitching eyes, seemingly glowing with power.

It was a good thing everyone was too busy watching the new student to notice his momentary lapse. With an inward scowl, Tom put himself back together and tried to peel his eyes away from the way Black moved as he came to a stop next to the Sorting Hat. There was something hypnotizing about it. The shadows seemed to lick at his feet and wrap around his body and it was as if he glided instead of walked.

Tom was intrigued; he couldn't believe someone could move so gracefully. He'd never seen anyone better than him when it came to elegance, even those trained purebloods. It just came naturally to him. If nothing else, Tom Riddle loved a mystery and a challenge.

**000**

"Mr. Black will be starting his seventh year here," Dippet was saying as Hadrian looked around the hall.

The entire student body was watching him closely. He heard whispers and giggles from every corner, especially from the girls. His eyes fell on the Slytherin table and he tried to make out Riddle among the sea of students.

He could sense his magic, of course, after being around Voldemort that much and no one's was quite as strong, not even Dumbledore. He had always found it a bit enthralling, though he tried to deny that. For some reason, he couldn't quite do that now. He figured it was just part of the merge and that the two counterparts disagreed on this. The old Hadrian, despite the way he acted, was still a pureblood and attracted to power.

"Without further ado, let us get him Sorted," the voice interrupted him before he could focus on Riddle.

Hadrian stepped to where Dumbledore was still standing next to the Sorting Hat. He already knew what House he would get into so there was no point in doing this, but he put the hat on as the deputy headmaster instructed him to do.

Of course, he wasn't surprised when the voice came. _"Ah, what's this? It seems you are more than you appear, 'transfer student.'" _

Hadrian snorted in his head. _"Isn't everyone? Now don't pry any more than you have. I'm only letting you in long enough to Sort me."_

The hat seemed to sigh. _"Very well, it is no business of mine. But you clearly belong in_…SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherins cheered as quietly as they could for him and he had to wonder how they managed to pull that off with dignity.

"Ah, splendid. I'm sure our Head Boy can help you get settled in nicely here at Hogwarts, Mr. Black," Dippet said in a voice that suggested he was pleased with the outcome. "Would you be so kind, Mr. Riddle?"

Hadrian found that weird since he was sure Slytherins were viewed unkindly. Maybe it was because Riddle seemed to be highly favored by the headmaster. He was, after all, considered to be 'one of the most brilliant students Hogwarts has ever seen.'

"Of course, headmaster," the voice of his ex-nemesis broke through to his thoughts.

Hadrian's eyes swept over to where the sound came from and his light green gaze locked with a darker shade of green. He held his breath as he studied the face. Of course, he had seen Riddle before as a sixth year, but if he thought he looked good then, he had to think up the proper adjective to describe how he looked now because handsome just didn't cut it. Riddle had to be the best looking guy in this entire room. Heck, in all of Great Britain!

_He does look rather striking, doesn't he?_

_Hell yes! _Hadrian groaned in his head, not even bothering to question why that voice had come back to taunt him again after almost a whole month of silence. He tried to stop thinking about Riddle's finely shaped jaws or the way his captivating dark eyes were watching him, but he was clearly fighting a losing battle.

Part of him was vehemently protesting against these thoughts, the part that was obviously Harry. Yet, another part of him had no problem letting this continue, evidently the impartial Hadrian who appreciated beauty and knowledge. Dammit! Wasn't Harry supposed to be dominant here? It seemed it would take some time before the two counterparts could fully coexist and blend smoothly. His mind just might continue to war with itself like this if it didn't happen soon.

_You can't ignore your deep connection with him. It's futile to even try to do so; this was meant to be_.

That was all it took for him to come back to his senses. What the hell was this stupid voice talking about? No way was he going to let Fate fuck around in his life again! If anything happened, it was going to be on his own terms!

And so what if Riddle was good-looking? He wasn't made up of only teenage hormones and he wasn't about to forget who the boy was. If this universe matched the old one, Riddle would have already murdered four people. In fact, just last summer he would have killed his father and grandparents! Yep, Riddle may be attractive, but he certainly had an ugly character and he wasn't about to forget that.

This seemed to settle the clash between the counterparts because they both agreed on the matter. Hadrian gathered his wits about him after his thoughts settled down and walked over to the Slytherin table when it was clear he could sit down with his new House.

A seat was already empty for him right next to Alphard, who couldn't seem to hide his smile properly enough. He returned his cousin's smile gently and took the offered seat.

He was very aware of the whole hall watching him but ignored it as he spoke his first words since coming to Hogwarts, "Good evening, cousin."

"Hey, Hadrian. I could have sworn you would be in Ravenclaw," Alphard said as he put a hand around his shoulders.

Hadrian ignored the touch, used to the boy's overly affectionate nature. "Did you? Funny, it didn't even consider any other House," he replied softly as he turned to look at the food before him.

A smug voice spoke from across him, "As I said, Slytherin through and through."

Hadrian gazed at the blond before him who strongly resembled Lucius Malfoy. It didn't take long for his mind to supply him with the identity of his first cousin, whom he was surprisingly close to. From what he could tell, his mother was very fond of her only nephew and the two of them had trained together with his father every summer until their sixth year.

Smiling, he shared a brief amused glance with him. "You've always known me quite well, Abraxas," he said. "I haven't seen you at all this summer. How was your trip to the States?"

The Malfoy heir waved a dismissive hand that instantly reminded him of his mother. Hadrian thought of how nice it was to compare someone's mannerisms to his parents for once before the blond said, "It is not as enjoyable as they make it seem. The Muggles are in a war and there are only a handful of wizards who are smart enough not to meddle in their affairs. Of course, they believe they have the help to spare because Grindelwald hasn't brought his war that far yet. The whole place is filled with Mudblood lovers and Light supporters."

Hadrian hid his distaste at his words since the whole table seemed to be listening and sympathizing. He attempted to steer the conversation away from this talk before they all started voicing their dislike for Muggleborns and turned to Riddle, who was watching him with calculating eyes from his spot between Abraxas and another who looked a lot like a younger Rodolphus Lestrange (whom he confirmed as Renatus Lestrange a second later).

"Excuse my manners," he said shifting his gaze back to Abraxas. "I think introductions are in order, don't you?"

"Ah, yes, of course. How remiss of me," the blond replied, not seeming fazed at all by the topic change. "Why don't we start with our esteemed Head Boy, Tom Riddle."

One would have to be completely blind not to see the amount of respect and admiration Riddle got from his fellow Slytherins. Maybe the whole school if the headmaster was anything to go by. Everyone was watching with bated breath the second his name was mentioned. Hadrian would have been unnerved at the way the Head Boy was staring at him with his calculating gaze if he hadn't already met his more formidable older version.

So, instead, he smiled politely and inclined his head. "Pleased to meet you," he said as he held out his hand for him to shake. He ignored the part of him that was screaming at him, asking why he would want to touch snake-face. It helped that Riddle was far from being snake-faced.

Riddle returned his polite smile. "Likewise," he said as he grasped his hand.

A moment later, both their hands tightened around the other and Hadrian kept himself from gasping at the electrical sensation that traveled up and down his arm. He wasn't the only one who felt it if the slight widening of Riddle's eyes was anything to go by. Hadrian was surprised when his scar also tingled pleasantly. Both boys stared at each other for a mere second before hastily dropping each other's hand.

At the same time as Hadrian promised to look up what was up with his scar, Tom filed away this incident for further investigation.

**000**

Hadrian was slightly annoyed to find that he shared his dorm with seven other boys. He was definitely going to miss being Head Boy and having his own room.

The dorm was not circular like his old one in Gryffindor Tower and it was also much larger. The beds were placed parallel against opposite walls and evenly spread out. From the door's immediate point of view, there were four beds and another door to the far left that probably led to the bathroom. Across from the four beds were three others that were occupied and one that was bare except for Hadrian's trunk sitting next to it.

The first bed was decorated in green, black, and silver like the others and had _Abraxas Malfoy _written on the front in silver. The bed across from it and closest to the door belonged to Renatus Lestrange. Next to Abraxas's bed was Julius Avery's and next to Lestrange's bed was Antonin Dolohov's. Next to Julius's bed was Flavius Mulciber's and next to Dolohov's was Devan Rosier's. That left Alphard's bed to be next to Mulciber's and across from Hadrian's.

_Great,_ Hadrian thought bitterly, _I'm surrounded by future Death Eaters. _

He assessed his situation wearily and made a note to keep an eye on Lestrange, Rosier, and mostly Mulciber and Dolohov. He'd personally seen Dolohov in a fight before and the man was a ruthless dueler. He'd felled plenty of the Light wizards in the final battle before Severus Snape had had to kill him. While he wasn't up to Snape's talent, Hadrian was pretty certain he could hold up against Remus.

He didn't know too much about the others, especially Lestrange, who seemed close to Riddle. Yes, he would definitely have to keep his eyes on his dorm mates. The only ones he could trust were his own cousins.

Hadrian went over to the bed that was obviously for him and eyed it distastefully. He did not like being this far away from the door either. Merlin, it was going to be a chore being in Slytherin territory.

This actually made him smile. He did so like a challenge.

**000**

Hadrian Black was a very suspicious fellow. He was careful, of course, but Tom had a sharp eye for these kinds of things. He had decided to discreetly observe the new student because he was determined to find out what had happened when they had shaken hands. It was before breakfast when he had noticed something odd about the Black boy.

Tom landed on the ground floor to get to the Great Hall for breakfast as early as usual when he heard footsteps. He was at the foot of the marble staircase so all he had to do was look to his right to see the transfer student heading up from the staircase to the dungeons.

He was unused to seeing any of the other Slytherins while going to breakfast, even when he had shared living quarters with them. He was always the last to go to sleep and the first to wake. It had been necessary way back when he had been weak but it was so ingrained that he hadn't stopped doing so. In fact, he was usually the first person in the Great Hall.

So he was unaccustomed to this sight of seeing someone else up as early as him. The fact that the new student was alone did not miss him. He didn't seem lost at all and appeared to be at ease. He didn't study Hogwarts as new people were wont to do either, just merely walked as if his feet were moving on automatic.

The boy, who had been humming softly with his eyes half-closed, looked up sharply then, as if sensing Tom's presence. His brilliant eyes flashed with some kind of emotion for a brief second but it was gone and replaced with polite indifference before Tom could decipher it.

"Good morning, Riddle," he said in that soft voice that certainly did not match his strong aura but also suited him somehow.

Tom nodded at him. "Good morning, Black. I see you found your way here just fine."

A small smile crossed the ebony-haired boy's lips as he said, "The headmaster was kind enough to give me a small map yesterday. It isn't very detailed but it was good enough for me to find my way from the dungeons."

Tom knew that was complete rubbish, though a believable lie it was. It also looked as though the boy had spun the tale on the spot. Impressive. Too bad he had given himself away while he was busy humming.

"Are you headed to the Great Hall?" he asked instead of calling him on it. Upon receiving a nod, he continued, "Then we can go together."

He might have been mistaken but he thought he definitely saw Black's eyes light up in challenge. That gave Tom pause. Had he been expected to catch the lie? Had that been some kind of test? It would have been the Slytherin thing to do: to test any new people one met like that instead of asking questions to find out more about them like any common person.

He would have discarded the mere thought at the innocent look on Black's face had it not been for those bright eyes staring unwaveringly at him. Hmm, it would seem Abraxas had been right and he would very well have to watch out for this new snake.

And, he realized with a little excitement, that it would be nice to have a new adversary who would challenge him and not immediately bow to him like all the rest; though, of course, he expected deference even from Black eventually.

_His power is certainly too strong for a petty follower._

Tom chose to ignore that stupid voice that had been pestering him the moment he had seen the boy and even more so when they had touched. He would have thought it was a spell at work if it hadn't been for the fact that it stated the very things he was thinking and denying. He'd never had much of a conscience but he could tell when one was at work.

He was interrupted from his musings by Black's gentle voice, "After you, then, Riddle."

It took a moment for Tom to remember that he had told the boy they could go to breakfast together but he wasn't stupid enough to walk ahead of a Slytherin that wasn't yet loyal to him. Call him paranoid but he was not where he was by blindly trusting anyone. He waited until Black fell into step with him with an amused little smirk on his beautiful features before walking alongside him to the Great Hall.

_He is exceedingly beautiful, is he not? _

Tom could not and would not deny that even if he didn't appreciate the small voice pointing it out to him. He watched Black from the corner of his eye and once again marveled at the flawless elegance with which the boy carried himself. His long hair was tied back with a silver band at the nape of his neck and two short bangs sat perfectly at either side of his face. His school robes were impeccable but that was to be expected of a purebred wizard. Tom himself was somewhat of a clean freak so he was glad he didn't have to put up with filthy people like in that _blasted_ orphanage.

_Calm, Tom. You never have to go back to that place,_ he reminded himself as he fully brought up his Occlumency shields. Thinking of that place always set him off. _Soon you can even publicly shed this dirty common name. _

Yes, everyone—and not just his associates—would have Lord Voldemort reverently on their lips soon enough. It wouldn't be too long. He already practically owned the students at Hogwarts; even the Gryffindorks admired him.

Between his innate elegance and the confidence born from strutting about this school like the Slytherin King he was, he was definitely a match for Black. Though, he dismally noted, there was something about the boy's walk that made his lacking in comparison. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

They entered the Great Hall together at the same time and in perfect step. If any others had been awake they would have made a most impressive duo, but they turned out to be the first students in for breakfast. There were, however, quite a few professors who were there and did look slightly awed at the power they exuded just with something as simple as walking.

"Ah, morning, morning! Mr. Riddle, early as always, I see." The headmaster called jovially as they continued to walk to the Slytherin table. "And is Mr. Black joining you from now on or are you just showing him around?"

"I'm just an early riser, headmaster," Black answered in a quiet voice that was still heard in the silent hall.

Tom sat down first and indicated that Black should sit in front of him. The Slytherin table had a very special seating arrangement that he had set up and, if Black sat in front of him, he would be breaking it. But that would also tell the others that their new Housemate was under evaluation, it was what he normally did.

He was surprised, however, when Black sat on his right and that challenge in his eyes heightened. Tom turned to him and they stared at each other for a few seconds. Either Black was stupid and didn't know that he shouldn't test the waters so boldly or he had something to back up his bravery.

Tom would have been mad at the way his authority was being challenged but for some reason he wasn't. This move only served to excite him further. As it was, he also wanted to see what Renatus would do when his position was taken. Everyone knew Renatus always sat to his right and Abraxas sat on his left.

Neither of them turned away until they were forced to by the Great Hall's doors opening to admit a couple of Ravenclaws in.

"I prefer not to have my back to the whole school," Black told him as he reached for a goblet and poured himself some pumpkin juice.

"That's understandable," Tom returned, though he suspected the boy knew very well what he was doing.

It wasn't too long before more students showed up for breakfast as he and Black ate in silence. The first of the Slytherins that arrived turned out to be Abraxas and Julius. Tom watched both their reactions carefully. Abraxas smirked at his cousin amusedly and sat down with a short greeting to both of them. Julius looked at them curiously before also sitting down next to Abraxas.

Soon enough, Renatus showed up along with the other seventh years. Tom held back his laughter at the look on Renatus's face. His eye twitched for a second before he quickly put on his mask, though he looked as if he were holding back from blowing up at Black. He gave Tom a questioning glance but Tom only gazed back amusedly at him and Renatus promptly sat in front of him, almost pushing Antonin aside in his haste.

No matter how entertained, Tom did not like the way Renatus sulked as he jerkily moved to grab some breakfast. He had expected him to be a little more mature or, at least, discreet about his displeasure. It wasn't like Black was threatening his position; well, not yet anyway. He still didn't know much about him.

Tom glanced at Black and saw that the boy was enjoying the proceedings and ignoring any looks he got in favor of eating his scrambled eggs. The sausage he had started to eat a while ago was only bitten and put back on his plate. Looked like he didn't like the sausages at Hogwarts, though Hogwarts food was some of the best.

Before the end of breakfast, Slughorn came around to pass out their timetables. He beamed at Tom as he gave him his and then turned his grin on Black.

"Mr. Black," he said excitedly, "we haven't had a chance to talk. I do hope you'll stop by my office so we can have a chat. I knew your father when he went here. He was a brilliant student."

Black took the timetable handed to him and smiled at their Head of House. "Thank you, sir. I will come by as soon as I'm able."

Slughorn's grin widened and he moved on to continue passing out schedules. Tom looked to his own. He had the same classes as he did last year: Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Potions, and Transfiguration. He would have taken History of Magic if he had learned anything in there but he was better off studying it on his own.

No other N.E.W.T.s student had as many classes as he did but that was because they couldn't handle it. He wasn't Head Boy for nothing and this came so easily for him that he hardly put in much effort. Not to mention, he loved to learn.

"Let me see your schedule, Hadrian," Alphard said from across Abraxas.

Black passed it on and Alphard looked through it eagerly and compared their schedules.

"Merlin. Eight classes, Hadrian?" Alphard asked. "What do you need Astronomy for?"

"I find Astronomy very fascinating," Black returned.

"His father is a Ward Mage and has taught him as well. What else did you expect?" Abraxas added.

Alphard looked confused. "What do the stars have to do with warding?"

"Well," the blond started haughtily, "most wards are strengthened when certain celestial bodies are visible or they are extra strong if they are put up when they are out. That is common knowledge."

It was, but Tom hadn't expected Alphard to know such a thing. Clever though he was, Alphard wasn't interested in that type of knowledge.

The gray-eyed teen ignored the Malfoy heir's jab and grinned at Black. "Other than Astronomy, Arithmancy, and Herbology we have every class together. Someone else can help you around when I'm not there. I think you have every class with Tom."

"I don't take Astronomy," Tom put in.

He stuck his hand out for Alphard to give him the timetable without asking Black. From the corner of his eye, he could see an amused look on the boy's face but he didn't protest. Tom compared their schedules and saw that they did have every class but Astronomy together.

"Yes, I am in a position to help you find your way to all of your classes," he finally said and gave the schedule back to the silent boy. He didn't think Black needed any help, however, if this morning was anything to go by.

Black gave him a brief smile. "That's very kind of you; thank you."

He still looked amused but Tom replied anyway, "It's my pleasure."

After breakfast, Tom went to his first class, Charms, with all the other seventh years. Charms was so easy with a professor like Flitwick. It wasn't because the class was simple (except for him) but because Flitwick was just a good teacher. The N.E.W.T.s level was like sharing the class with another House, other than a few students choosing not to take it or were particularly dismal at the subject.

He didn't need to guide Black to the class because Alphard had already whisked him away and was talking excitedly. Tom wondered why the boy was like this around his cousin. Sure he was quite excitable but he was still a Slytherin and wasn't so blatant about it most of the time.

Something about the Black boy seemed to unhinge the other. Either Tom was reading into it too much or Alphard was a tad bit _too_ fond of his cousin. And Tom didn't think he was reading into it too much.

**000**

Tom had his last class before lunch—Arithmancy—with only Black and Abraxas. He was surprised to note that he had missed Black when the bell sounded and the small amount of students compiled of all four Houses poured out. Abraxas himself looked befuddled as well and Tom wondered how the boy had slipped out that quickly and inconspicuously.

He didn't think much of it as he told Abraxas to precede him to the Great Hall so he could go to his dorm. He had a free period right after lunch and he could just come back to his room to finish the load of homework he had already gotten.

Tom had started in the direction of the Head Dorm as he got to the fifth floor when he thought he saw a flicker of something just as he was about to turn the corner. Anyone else would have ignored this but he wasn't anyone else so he backtracked slowly and silently and hid behind the corner to see what it was.

To his amazement, it turned out to be the statue of Gregory the Smarmy moving to close in on itself. Right next to it, as he walked to a shady spot, was none other than the Black boy. Before he could even fully process the fact that not only had Black got here ahead of him and found his way perfectly fine, but had somehow caused the statue to open up like a crease as if to reveal a passageway, Tom saw the shadows wrap around the teen like a caterpillar's cocoon and eat him up. He disappeared without a sound and without further movement.

Stunned thoroughly for the first time he could remember, Tom did not move as he stared at the place Black had just been. He waited for a while to make sure the boy wouldn't come back then headed to the statue. He stopped in front of it and put his hands on it.

He had never stopped to look at any of the statues. Why should he? Most of them were just there for decoration, after all. But now, as he touched this one and made himself even more aware of magic, Tom noticed that it had a different feeling than only the ambient magic in Hogwarts. It felt hollow and deeper, as if it passed through another place filtering with magic as well.

He paused to think about where that would be and came up with the Forbidden Forest, Black Lake, or Hogsmeade. Stretching his feeling even further and thinking about the kind of magic in each, he came to the conclusion that this definitely had the feel of people and objects. That would only leave Hogsmeade, then.

Could it be that Black had found a passageway to the magical town? No, not found; apparently he had known or he wouldn't have come straight up here. How was it that a transfer student who had never been to Hogwarts could already know so much about it?

Tom let his hands drop and resolved to come look at this after lunch. He could probably open it with a little more study. He turned away from the statue and continued to go in the direction of his room.

Black was certainly something else. Tom had read about people who could control the Shadows like that during his more leisurely studies. It was referred to as the Ancient Ability most of the time because there was always a huge gap between the masters and, usually, most of them failed to take complete control of it. How advanced was Black?

Tom's head positively spun thinking about the implications of this. Black was even stronger than he had perceived. What more was he hiding and why was he lurking about Hogwarts like this? Did his cousins know anything about it? He would have to ask subtly so as not to garner suspicion from them.

He thought back to the reaction of when their hands met and Tom got even more determined to learn what had caused that. In fact, he was very determined to have Black figured out before the year ended.

Had he mentioned he loved mystery and challenge?

**000**

Hadrian had never found school so easy in his life. Back in the other universe, his sixth and the first two months of his seventh year had been simple because of a lot of effort on his part. He had never been naturally inclined to studying, it had just become a necessity. Only after Voldemort's defeat did he find it intriguing—and something that served to distract him from thinking about the Dark Lord.

But now, with the old Hadrian's bookworm nature mixed in with Harry's new fascination with learning, the stuff taught here was child's play. The only thing that had been slightly hard was Arithmancy and that was only because Harry had never taken the subject, though he _had_ learned about it, but only the bare minimum to get him through runes.

The merge was also smoothing out as he had noticed that morning during breakfast. This time, when he saw Riddle, he didn't have any violent thoughts or constantly admire his looks. The Harry in him liked Riddle as a powerful adversary because he had come for Voldemort, after all, and some part of him was still there. The Hadrian part of him was simply interested in any reactions he could get out of Riddle and learning more about him and seeing how he would interpret his obvious challenge.

Another thing he had noticed was that he did not have the same taste buds. Sausages, once delectable, now tasted absolutely vile. Come to think of it, most of the meat he had tried was downright disgusting. It made his stomach turn and he felt like retching just by smelling it. He didn't know why because he'd never had such a fierce reaction from only something he thought didn't taste good. This was like he could feel the animal itself protesting and suffering with each bite. _Ugh_, just thinking about it made him want to empty his stomach out now.

Hadrian shook his head and thought about what he had discovered before lunch. While in Arithmancy, he had heard a couple students talking about the caretaker at Hogwarts, some cruel man named Apollyon Pringle. He had then realized that this man didn't have to put up with the likes of the Weasley twins so he wouldn't know any of the four secret passageways the twins had lost to Filch.

That had led him to explore the one on the fifth floor. This one ended up in the stock room of Gladrags Wizardwear. There were plenty of clothes and shoes that hid the wall that let one go through it as if passing under a waterfall. He would check the one behind the mirror on the fourth floor as well since it wouldn't cave in until 1992. Hopefully; if things were still the same in this universe.

It was just as well that he was checking through the passages now. He had a feeling he might need them and his instincts usually proved to be right, even if he could Stalk to Hogsmeade if he wanted to.

Now it was after lunch and he had a free period and he was headed to the Owlery to send his letter home. His mother had made him promise to tell them all about his time at Hogwarts. To his slight embarrassment, he had written a very long letter because he had never had (and had had at the same time) the pleasure of writing to his parents—the thought still made him giddy.

It was warm outside, the effects of summer still around, and the sun was blazing but there was still a cool breeze. He soaked it up and headed to the West Tower where he had left Hedwig after coming to the school.

She gave an excited hoot the second he got there and he didn't blame her because he wouldn't want to stay here either.

"Hey, girl," he said as she swooped down to him and settled on his shoulder. He handed her the envelope. "Take that home, will you?"

Hedwig had taken to their new home and the new him quite enthusiastically and he was once again reminded of how intelligent she was. She seemed to know they were somewhere completely different and that he was somehow different but still the same.

She nipped his ear affectionately and he watched her glide off through the glassless windows. It was going to take a while to get his message to France but he was already anticipating a return letter. Merlin, he hadn't known he was so desperate.

As soon as he could no longer see her, Hadrian left the tower and went back to the school so he could get his homework out of the way. The common room wasn't as empty as he had expected it to be when he got in. There were a couple of sixth years that looked familiar, two seventh-year girls he had already talked to during Charms, and Lestrange and Rosier.

Ignoring them, he went down to his dorm to get his bag. When he came back up, the two seventh-year girls, a pretty blonde named Adelina Selwyn and an even more gorgeous and sultry ebony-haired one named Jezebel Greengrass, called him over. No one would blame him if he went straight for her, he was sure. He recalled a Slytherin Daphne Greengrass in his year back in the other world. She had been quite the looker, too.

He joined them on the leather couch and set his homework out before turning to smile at them. They were both staring at him and he wondered why he had never seen them before. They were both purebloods and from a Dark family. Maybe he didn't interact too much outside of his family and close friends.

"How do you like Hogwarts so far, Hadrian?" Adelina asked him.

They had already decided to use first names with each other. Of course, the guys were not as inviting with that, not that Hadrian wanted to be on first name basis with them. These girls reminded him of Cosette anyway, whom he found himself missing a little. (He did not miss the fact that he was no longer differentiating between the old Hadrian and Harry, another sign that the merge was becoming smoother.)

Hadrian looked up from the parchment he laid out for his Arithmancy homework and said, "It's interesting. The Palace is not as large as this castle but it is more elegant and aesthetically pleasing."

"I should think so, with a name like the Palace of Beauxbatons," Jezebel delicately snorted. "The French have much more concern over that type of thing."

"Yes," a drawling voice intruded on their conversation, "pompous lot, aren't they?"

Hadrian didn't show any surprise as he gazed up at Lestrange looming over him with his arms crossed and a dark scowl on his face. He hid his pleasure as well because he had been waiting for the boy to confront him at some point. Go figure he would do it while Riddle wasn't around. Still, he hadn't let him down too much.

Hadrian remained calm and raised one brow as he spoke, "And what are you trying to insinuate?"

Lestrange's scowl stayed on as he whispered silkily, "You are new, Black, it would be unwise to make any unnecessary enemies."

"Enemies?" Hadrian asked with a feigned puzzled look on his face. He turned to the girls then back and said, "Correct me if I'm mistaken, but I seem to be under the impression that I'm getting on quite well with my lovely companions at the moment."

"Don't play dumb!" Lestrange snarled. "I would not get ideas above my station if I were you, Black. As I have said, you are unaware of how things work around here so I will indulge you. We have a very specific protocol in Slytherin, a hierarchy if you will. At the top is the Heir of Slytherin, of course. You have met him, our Head Boy, Tom Riddle. At the very top, mind you.

"To be able to interact with him in the close way you have presumptuously invited yourself to do, you must work hard for it. Now, let me inform you that I have put in that effort to earn the honor of being Lo—Tom's right-hand. And let me further notify you that I do not take kindly to some French pansy strutting in here and attempting to usurp me!"

Hadrian had not expected the boy to be so emotional about this. He realized that the rest weren't as surprised. Was Riddle's favor so great that they lowered themselves to acting this _un_Slytherin to keep it? Merlin, it was so hilarious he wanted to laugh in his face. This was the honor he was talking about?

Fuck, though, Riddle was good, to be able to receive this much devotion already! He had not missed Lestrange's slip either, the boy had clearly been about to call Riddle Lord Voldemort.

Well, he wasn't going to take shit from any of Riddle's lackeys. He didn't care if he made enemies. He would do many things to keep his cover, but bending his will was _not_ going to be one of them.

Drawing up to his full height, he faced Lestrange without an ounce of fear. It was a good thing they were the same height. But, as he schooled his face into a cold expression and gathered whatever shadows around the room that he could around himself, he was sure that he looked much more imposing and threatening than Lestrange could ever hope to.

"I think, Lestrange," he started in a deceptively calm voice as he pierced the boy with a deadly gaze, "that it is you who is playing dumb. I was expecting better deductive reasoning from you. It seems I have overestimated you, however. From what I understand, Gryffindors are the ones that act on their emotions. You were there—were you not—when the headmaster requested of your venerated Head Boy to help me ah…settle in, was it? And Riddle, being the respectable student that he is, was obligated to comply and put forth a helpful hand to his new Housemate. This, I'm sure, would be enough to help said Housemate around the school and allow him to—what was it, take the honorable position of his right-hand? He would only do what was expected of him, _non_? Especially when in front of the entire staff and the very headmaster who appealed to him. It is the understandable thing to do."

He could tell they were all stunned and Lestrange certainly looked cowed. He had taken care to act like the old Hadrian and had been appallingly polite and kind all yesterday and today. But he couldn't take it when his pride was being tested.

Hadrian paused a breath before leaning in closer to the boy and whispering, "Are your pathetic insecurities and dramatic imagery of how I am trying to steal your position assuaged now?" He didn't even wait for him to answer as he stepped back and changed his calm voice to one of cold quiet. "Good, because I will not be such a good sport about any unfound accusations should you accost me again and attempt to threaten me in true Gryffindoresque fashion. Believe me when I say, _I_ will not be the one making 'unnecessary enemies.'"

He spared Lestrange a careless glance that said how truly important he was to him then sat back down imperiously while letting his grasp of the Shadows go. He paid no heed to when Lestrange swept out of the common room in a fit with Rosier, no doubt to go find Riddle and complain to him.

He was delighted to see the look on Jezebel's face as well. The entire time since he had met her, she'd appeared to be condescendingly disdainful of everything, but now there was evident surprise in her eyes. He had to say, it was a nice look on her. Adelina was gazing at him shrewdly, as if she had to reconsider many of her opinions of him. He wouldn't be surprised if they all had to. He was sure they had wondered how he'd ended up in Slytherin, being so soft spoken and bookwormish.

Finally, Jezebel gently cleared her throat and said with a glint in her exotic violet eyes when he turned to her, "Well done, Hadrian."

Adelina leaned in and added with a smirk, "Yes, I completely agree. Renatus clings to Tom like a desperate lover. Quite sickening at times. He is a perfectly respectable pureblood heir until the smallest mention of Tom is made."

Jezebel pouted her red and perfectly plump lips with an indignant look in her eyes. "He was ruining all of our efforts, really—making Tom completely unavailable when we wanted him."

Adelina giggled softly. "I don't know about right-hand, maybe he would love the position of his left-hand."

Hadrian watched with amusement as Jezebel chuckled darkly at her and swatted her hand gently. "Oh no, that position goes to a much _prettier_ choice. Only the best for our dear Tom, of course."

"Of course," Adelina said with an equally dark chuckle. He was disconcerted when both their gazes landed on him. "All the more reason to keep close the only lovely one who hasn't been captured by him as of yet."

It wasn't long before Hadrian realized, with horror, that they were talking about keeping him close and suggesting that his cousin, Abraxas, was Riddle's consort of sorts, or current conquest.

_Merlin, no! Don't let it be true,_ he thought ardently.

_I wonder if you are angry at Riddle or jealous of Abraxas for the position he holds._

_Jealous? _he repeated, incredulous and indignant. He did not know what made him angrier: that the damnable voice was still there or that it seemed to invoke some deep emotion in him that he could not be bothered to investigate. _As if I want that homicidal maniac!_

"Hadrian," Jezebel purred, "what is the matter with you?"

Hadrian blinked at that then turned back to the girls. He smiled lightly and said, "Ah, my apologies. I was thinking of how to start my essay."

Then he did start thinking about his essay and put quill to parchment before he let anything else distract him again, even ignoring the hollow echo in his chest that the voice had brought along with it.

**000**

Tom rolled his eyes. They were talking about Quidditch. Sometimes he didn't even know why he visited the common room. He knew it was important to keep an eye on things and to make sure they stayed loyal, but when the conversation started degenerating to something as banal as Quidditch, he felt like hexing them.

His eyes traveled to where the Black boy was sitting between the seventh-year boys and girls. Once in a while, he would participate in the boys' conversation and then the girls would catch his attention. He had become instantly popular with them and Tom could see why since the boy was gorgeous, polite, and actually showed interest in them, though if that was genuine or feigned was anyone's guess.

The boy had surprised him, Tom would admit. When Renatus had come to his dorm in a fit of rage and recounted what had happened to him, he had had to try very hard to contain his amusement. Then he had reassured Renatus that his position wasn't in any danger and that he was just acting as expected of him towards a new student, like Black had said.

He'd watched Black afterward but he hadn't acted any different than he had been every other time. Tom hadn't expected anything, though, seeing as he had fooled even his own cousins into thinking he was a soft intellectual.

"You want to try out for the team?" Alphard's incredulous voice cut through to his solitary thoughts and Tom looked to see the seventh years staring at Black.

"Yes," Black said amusedly. "Don't sound so surprised."

Alphard gave him a puzzled glance. "Why shouldn't I be? You've never shown any interest in Quidditch."

Black waved his hand dismissively. "That doesn't mean it wasn't there. I had better things to do then. Playing here should be interesting."

"You sound confident that you will get chosen," Flavius pointed out.

There was a glint in his bright eyes as he replied with a small smirk, "Oh, I am confident."

"What position are you thinking of?" asked Adelina.

Tom just then noticed that she was clinging to the boy's left arm and sitting very close to him. Alphard himself, who was on his right, also had their thighs and shoulders touching rather intimately.

"Seeker."

Renatus chuckled bitterly and Tom was amused to note he hadn't let go of his grudge, no matter how reassured he had been. Black didn't even seem to notice him and that served to further anger him.

"Have you seen our current Seeker? He is perfect for the position," Renatus goaded. "You are much larger than he is."

Black finally turned to him and smiled courteously. "Size is no matter. It's all about skill and I flatter myself when I say I have plenty of that."

"Really, Hadrian? I have never seen you play. I don't think I've ever seen you with a broom, actually," Orion jumped into the conversation as he came to stand behind the couch his cousin was currently sitting on.

It was then that Tom noticed the whole common room seemed to be listening in. Black had garnered even more of his Housemates' interest. With an inward frown, Tom sent a quelling glare at Orion. He didn't care if everyone was listening in but no one was messing with the hierarchy on his watch. No one was allowed on the seventh-year side or around his circle without express permission.

Orion looked around as if just realizing where he was. He hurriedly left and returned to join his friends. Tom's eyes met those of Black's. He dared Black to do something with his gaze. He had let him get away with quite a lot but this was still _his_ House (and, as far as he was concerned, _his_ school) and everything played out on _his_ rules.

What he didn't expect in Black was for him to smile lazily at him with a challenging gleam in his eyes before turning back to the conversation. Tom wondered what that was supposed to mean. Was he accepting his challenge or was he giving on this particular subject?

_Enigmatic, beautiful, intelligent, powerful…he's perfect for you. _

_Yes, he is…_

Tom's own eyes lit up with fire as his chest filled with a deep, unknown emotion he couldn't put his finger on.

* * *

Things I would like to address about this chapter:

1. The only boys I'm sure attended school with Tom are Avery and Lestrange (whose first names I obviously made up). The rest I used because if you check HPLexicon (I love that place!) you will notice that they are listed as the earliest Death Eaters. I don't know how old that would make them but I decided to use them anyway. I did not use Nott because it's mentioned that his son is Theodore Nott and I don't think he would be 70 if he had a son Harry's age (though it could happen in wizarding standards since James's parents were super old, too). Either way, I made all of that up just as I made up the girls.

2. I'm not sure when Flitwick started teaching but he is mentioned as being ancient and I figured he would be around during that time. I also don't know if Apollyon Pringle was the caretaker of that time-I know he was during Molly Weasley's time but twenty extra years doesn't seem too much to me. Also have no clue when Slughorn started teaching (but it was during the same time as Dumbledore) so maybe he wouldn't have been around to teach Regulus Black, though Dumbledore would have been 36 by the time Regulus turned 11. We'll stick with it, however.

* * *

Edited: 12/31/08


	5. Spicing Things Up

_**Hollow Thunder, Vital Lightning -**__Aariya_

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle

Genre: Drama, Romance, Fantasy, Action/Adventure

Summary: Life after Voldemort is ideal and perfect for everyone except the one who made it possible. Unbelievably bored and unhappy, Harry performs a spell that will take him to an alternate universe where he can be happiest with Voldemort. Even he hadn't expected the outcomes or how the spell would misinterpret his desires.

Warnings: _slash_; AU; Slytherin!Harry; Dark!Harry (sorta)...and another one I took out that you will have to figure out for yourself; it's kind of crucial to the plot so I can't tell you!

Spoilers: Compliant with first five books and includes information from six and seven.

**Disclaimer:** Let me go over this one more time for the people who have obviously not caught on—my name: Aariya, NOT J.K. Rowling.

.-.

"HTVL" - English, or other human languages

_HTVL - Thoughts, Spells, Special Text (titles and such)_

_"HTVL" - Parseltongue, Incanted Spells, or a language within a language _

_**HTVL - Parselmagic (spells and the language in writing)**_

Chapter 5: Spicing Things Up

* * *

It was already the next Sunday and Hadrian had been working hard to befriend practically everyone. He was making a lot of contacts and his popularity was increasing. It had paid off since he now had the reputation of being the "nice" Slytherin, though that wasn't necessarily the same within his own House.

They really didn't know what to think of him. While they had heard snippets of his confrontation with Lestrange, they had not witnessed anything further that suggested he was just as cold as the rest of them when he wanted to be. He was closer to them now, though, and he had let them see glimpses of the real him so they knew he wasn't some Hufflepuff in Slytherin clothing.

To the horror of his Housemates, he even had made friends with Gryffindors. They had asked him what the heck he thought he was doing fraternizing with Gryffindors and he had told them politely to mind their own business and that he knew what he was doing. Of course, even they couldn't argue with him when they saw he usually only talked to the very influential or pureblooded ones. Hadrian himself wasn't really differentiating. It just seemed to end up like that because they were the ones who had the most to say to him.

His contact with the Gryffindors helped too because Hadrian had met a Potter that had made him question many things while talking to one of the purebloods he was related to by marriage. His aunt-in-law Melania's nephew, Sebastian MacMillan, was best friends with the Potter he had met one Friday afternoon in the Quidditch pitch.

Hadrian was outside on the Quidditch pitch tinkering with his Firebolt so he could use it for the tryouts and games. He was trying to make sure he could use his Firebolt without people questioning where he had gotten it from and so it wouldn't be too fast for the slow brooms in this timeline.

One of the things he could do with his Shadows was not only wrap it around himself and hide his appearance, presence, scent, and magic but he could also do it with an object or person of his choosing. What he had to do with his Firebolt, though, was not only hide most of its magic but also give it the appearance of a normal broom of this time and slow it down.

He had looked through the Quidditch books in the library and found the latest model and some spells that would help him. With this, he was slowing it down until it was just right and putting a glamour on it to make it appear just like the Comet 180. After doing this, he would have to wrap his Shadows around it temporarily to hide the magic so it would pass inspection before the games. He had made it slower but he hadn't done it too much because he would certainly go crazy with how slow they were.

Now he was in the process of putting on the finishing touches and planning to practice with it so he would be ready for the decrease in speed, though he hadn't done anything to the balance, precision, smooth actions, or protective charms. It was probably cheating but he knew he couldn't give up Quidditch and he most definitely could not enjoy the game with these old brooms. Besides, it wasn't like he was a Chaser who had to constantly race back and forth and he was probably the best Seeker here anyway, having been offered professional contracts in the old universe.

"Hadrian!"

Hadrian quickly stopped what he was doing before anyone could see and turned around to watch a Gryffindor sandy-haired boy running towards him with another taller boy trailing behind him. The information for who this was came a lot more rapidly than the other times he had searched his memories and he immediately found himself with a name.

"Hey, Sebastian," he returned with a smile once the boy stopped in front of him with a wide grin.

Sebastian's smile left to be replaced with a pout as he said, "Don't you 'hey' me. You've been here a whole week and you haven't so much as looked my way."

Hadrian smiled at him amusedly. "Forgive me, but let's remember who is the new student here. How am I to find you here in this huge castle? You knew where I was and you could have easily found me," he told the sixth year who was starting to look sheepish.

"Well, you know, you're always surrounded by your friends," Sebastian explained rather lamely.

"Oh, don't tell me, you're scared of the big, bad Slytherins?" Hadrian asked with a smirk. "Too afraid to approach me with them around?"

The boy shot him an indignant look. "I'm not frightened of those slimy snakes!" he cried, and then flushed and quickly added, "Of course, I don't mean you. You're much better than that lot."

Hadrian laughed at his embarrassment and gave him a one-armed hug. "It's nice to see you, too, Sebastian. Now where are those impeccable manners of yours? Are you going to introduce me to your friend or not?"

"Oh, sorry!" Sebastian said as he turned to the boy standing behind him and watching them with amusement. "Hadrian, meet my best mate, Harrison Potter. Harrison, this is my…um I don't know what to call our relationship, actually. Hadrian?"

"I am the nephew of the husband of his aunt," Hadrian filled in as he tried to hide his alarm at the name of Sebastian's friend.

"Right. It's kinda distant," the Gryffindor said as he looked back at his friend.

Hadrian turned to study Harrison and could see all the telltale Potter traits. In fact, he looked almost exactly like his dad…er, James. He had the same unruly black hair, glasses, and hazel eyes. He couldn't recall a Potter who would be sixteen in the year 1944 from the family tree he had found in the Potter Family Vault in Gringotts after his inheritance. But who was this Harrison Potter? Could he be some distant relative? It didn't appear so seeing as he was practically the spitting image of James; brothers, maybe? How many things were different in this universe?

Hadrian shook himself and resolved to think about it later. He stuck his hand out for Harrison to shake. "Hello. It's nice to meet you," he said with a smile.

Harrison shook his hand and gave him a lopsided grin. "Nice to meet you too, Hadrian. Can I call you Hadrian?"

"Sure. You might get confused with how many other Blacks there are here," Hadrian replied with a shrug.

"Yeah, there's lots of you," Harrison said with a chuckle. He then glanced at his broom and grinned. "You play Quidditch?"

"Yes. I'm planning on trying out for the Slytherin team. Do you play?" Hadrian asked as he straightened his broom and caressed the polished wood.

Sebastian cut in, "Yeah, Harrison is one of our Chasers. He's brilliant on a broom."

Hadrian raised a brow at that. The similarities kept piling up and this boy seemed more and more like James. Of course, most brothers weren't that similar but he could be emulating him. Did that mean that somewhere James Potter was alive in this timeline?

But that didn't make sense. Now that he thought about it, why had Hadrian Black been Harry Potter's counterpart? What had made them the same people if they didn't even have the same parents? What exactly did they have in common?

"What position do you play?" Harrison's voice interrupted the endless questions he had been prepared to ask.

"Seeker. I'm afraid we won't be going up against one another," he answered with a genial smile.

"That's okay. We can still have a one-on-one. Are you up for it now? I can help you practice," suggested the sixteen-year-old.

"He'll be good practice, Hadrian. You'll be thankful for it during your tryouts," Sebastian said excitedly.

Hadrian gripped his broom and smirked down at the Gryffindor. "I hope you aren't a sore loser."

Harrison returned his smirk and _Accio'_d his broom, which turned out to be the same model. "That's my line, mate."

And thus was born the simple and very amicable friendship with the first Potter he had ever conversed with. The boy was a natural at Quidditch, though he had not beaten him with the broom he carried or the position he held. Through Sebastian and Harrison, he had met some of the other Gryffindors, particularly the seventh years who dominated their Quidditch team.

Hadrian was still wondering about Harrison's connection to this timeline. He also needed to find out what was going on in this universe because he didn't appreciate getting surprised like this. He had not been able to find much pertaining to the Potters in history books, though, and had almost given up when his research proved to be futile. This made him even more determined to find out more about Harrison, however.

But now it was the second Sunday since school began and it was finally time for Slytherin's Quidditch tryouts. He had worn casual robes and Quidditch gloves as he headed to the field with his broom and Alphard at his side. His cousin was talking animatedly but Hadrian was more aware of where he was headed and the number of people that were coming along.

There was a large turnout when everyone who wanted to tryout was finally there. Word had gotten around school quickly that he was trying out and everyone wanted to scope out the talents of the transfer student. Not to mention, he had made friends with a lot of people in his short week.

Hadrian tuned out all the excited chatter as people stepped up for each position. Finally, when his turn came, he mounted his broom confidently and soared into the air in search of the Snitch with the other hopeful Seekers.

**000**

"You're coming?" Renatus asked in surprise. "Why? You hate Quidditch."

Tom cut him a look to shut him up. "Are you questioning me?" he asked in a low, controlled voice as they strolled down to the Quidditch field together.

Renatus, realizing what he had just done, looked contrite as he said, "No, Lord Voldemort."

Tom nodded in satisfaction and turned away. He himself did not know why he was even bothering to go. It was true, he thought Quidditch was useless and a waste of time when one could be doing better things. He could say it was because he had to keep an eye on Black but that would be a lie and Tom didn't bother lying to himself.

He didn't need whatever Quidditch talents Black had to offer and he could have anyone else report to him if he wanted to. But alas, no matter how much he told himself this, he found himself still wanting to come. It was almost as if a force were pulling him toward the boy nowadays. Quite irritating, actually, especially when he had no explanation for what was happening. It had been like that ever since their electrifying handshake.

When they arrived in the field, it was already filled with many students. Tryouts were never this popular and he knew it was because of Black's presence. Tom had noticed him socializing a lot during the past week.

While watching, he found himself unable to tell what Black's real character was. During classes, he was polite, intelligent, and confident. With the Slytherins, he was more calculating, cautious, elegant, and the perfect pureblood. With the Ravenclaws, he had this zeal for knowledge that made Tom understand why his cousins had pegged him for that House. When with the Gryffindors—something Tom still did not approve of but could do nothing about—he was almost like one of them: talkative, worriless, and friendly in their in-your-face way. And, with the Hufflepuffs, he showed this achingly compassionate side that totally threw Tom off balance. He couldn't understand why he would want to help them with their homework or talk about inconsequential things and problems.

The many facets of Black were unnerving and Tom wondered if this was part of his challenge because the boy's eyes met his own whenever Tom found himself watching and they always had this fire in them that he couldn't identify. Of course, he still had yet to figure the challenge itself out. It couldn't be for his leadership since the mere notion was quite laughable.

He liked the dance between them but he did not humor any threats to his position. He was so close to his goal that, at this point, he would crush anyone who stood in his way.

Tom looked up when he heard the cheers strengthen suddenly. He immediately saw the cause of it when he espied the figure of Black taking a serious nose dive. Two of the other would-be Seekers followed him, though Tom could see no glint of gold from his spot. He knew it was a ploy when Black slowed down and sharply pulled out of the dive. The other two weren't fast enough to pull back up all the way once they realized what was going on. They slowed down enough to soften their blows as they hit the ground but they were clearly out for the count.

Black was back in the air immediately and casually looking around again with only one opponent now, the original Seeker for the team. The injured players were being helped out of the field and the spectators were going wild about Black's 'amazing Wronski Feint.'

Tom barely kept himself from sneering at them. He'd never understand their love for this petty game. He would be more impressed with magic and the knowledge of magic. That was definitely more interesting than a dumb game where they toss a ball back and forth, knock each other's nonexistent brains out, and dive to uncertain _death _for a tiny little ball.

Just as the thought entered his mind, Tom was once again made aware of the deafening cheers as Black and seventh-year Mellony Basset's third-year brother, Leopold, raced after the sighted Snitch. Even he, who was by no means an expert on Quidditch, could tell which one was the better player. While Leopold was smaller and maneuvered quite well on his broom, Black was the master of his. It was as if his broom operated on his every thought and he made every stunt look wonderfully smooth.

He easily passed the younger boy and was following the golden ball through every loop and simply dodging every Bludger until he took a dive on the other side of the pitch and grabbed the ball out of the air with little effort. The cheers reverberated around the field and Tom grimaced when Alphard's loud voice threatened to permanently damage his eardrums.

Tom watched Black glide down to the ground and gracefully get off his broom and hold up the fluttering Snitch. The long-haired boy was immediately surrounded by the entire Slytherin team and the captain, a sixth year named Anastius Zabini, started to shake his hand enthusiastically and already welcomed him on to the team, gushing about his spectacular performance.

Tom's mouth was in danger of eternally staying in a scowl. Another reason he wasn't so fond of Quidditch was that it caused his whole House to act in a decidedly unSlytherin-like fashion.

Black regarded Anastius calmly and with an air of amusement as he drawled, "So, I'm in? That's it?"

"That's it?" Anastius repeated indignantly. "Did you not notice the Bludger dangerously tailing you the entire time?"

"Hm," was Black noncommittal reply followed by a fluid shrug of his shoulders.

Anastius shook his head and looked at the older boy reverently. "Unbelievable. If you don't get a contract by the end of this year, I'll eat my hand. What broom do you have there?"

"Comet 180."

"I have a Comet 180 and it doesn't move half as well as you made yours move," the sixth year said as his worshipful gaze shifted to the broom Black was holding.

Black gave him a secretive smile that Tom tried not to admire. He frowned once he noticed what he was doing and stood up to leave when it was evident this wasn't going anywhere. He was catching himself doing that a lot more lately and it was getting annoying.

It wasn't as if he'd never seen someone beautiful. Abraxas was one of the best looking boys in school and Tom's gaze hardly ever wavered to him. While he could appreciate beauty, it didn't matter much to him. He was more into power and it wasn't a big deal how the person looked.

_Black's got both. _

And boy did he know it. The feel of Black's magic assaulted his senses every day and Tom was enraptured more and more every time he encountered it. There was just something about it that called to him and urged him to pay attention. He was a highly magical person who loved magic more than the average wizard so it was extremely difficult to ignore Black and his magnificent aura.

He just needed time away from the boy and to focus on something else, he decided as he left the pitch to go to the library. He would _not_ be so easily affected by anyone if he could help it.

_You're being foolish. You cannot hide from yourself._

_Shut up,_ he snarled.

And, to his satisfaction, it did. Though not for long.

**000**

Hadrian smirked while looking at the Marauder's Map in a secluded corner in the library. He was resolute in his decision that this school needed some spicing up. The week had been fun and the tryouts entertaining, but his life was dangerously close to falling into a routine and he could not have that.

Riddle was avoiding him for some reason, so he couldn't get any thrill from him until he found out why and came up with a way to counter it. In the meantime, he was definitely bringing the Marauders to an alternate-universe-1944.

Pringle was outside on the pitch, Dumbledore and Dippet were both in their office, and the Great Hall was empty. Perfect. He would start with a small, subtle prank and work his way up through the school year. Anyone who was smart enough could get rid of the affects with some trial and error, which meant the professors wouldn't be too pissed off by the end of the day tomorrow when he put it in motion.

Checking to make sure no one could see him, Hadrian Stalked out of the library and into the Great Hall. He took his wand out and moved to the High Table to weave the layers of magic into the table and make it sensitive to touch. Once done, he proceeded to do so to all the other tables and to the Great Hall's floor, just in case no one touched the tables.

He then cast a spell to lure every student to breakfast tomorrow morning since some people chose to forgo it. Lastly, he made sure nothing happened until the hall was filled, and left the message on the back wall to appear once it was noticed.

He was interested in seeing who would figure out how to cancel the spells tomorrow. He expected Dumbledore and the other professors to be fairly quick about it. He was pretty sure Riddle would have no problem with it either and that most Slytherins knew how to work around layered spells. He himself would have to act like he was trying to find the counter before canceling the affects.

Hadrian erased all traces of himself and Stalked back to the library once he was satisfied with his work. With that out of his mind, he went to the history section to continue his search on the Potters. He had thought about asking Sebastian but found that he and Harrison were literally inseparable. He didn't want to ask him while his friend was there since it would be suspicious, but it was much harder than it seemed to get Sebastian alone.

Sighing, he grabbed some promising books and moved to sit in his usual spot. It looked like he would be having another day of fruitlessly searching for information about the Potters in this timeline. Why couldn't they be like the other families who boasted about their pureblood status and left their history for them to be remembered? He had found much on the Blacks and Malfoys, though they were only boring history books that talked nothing of the secrets and real stories he knew of.

He barely opened the first book before a shadow fell over his table. He glanced up to see a familiar face that he couldn't place very well. The boy was tall and handsome with intense midnight blue eyes and black hair that swept to the left side of his pale face and fell into his eyes like a dark curtain. He was wearing the Ravenclaw crest as well.

"Hello, Hadrian," he spoke lowly.

It wasn't until he heard the rich voice that Hadrian remembered him from Lucretia's engagement. The one who had commented on his changed posture—Cassius, that's what Cosette had called him. Why was the boy talking to him, though? From what he could remember, they didn't know each other very well and they saw one another only during balls. He knew him only through Cosette, who was friends with pretty much everyone she met. He didn't even know the boy's last name, as he couldn't recall her ever mentioning it.

Nevertheless, he offered him a smile and said, "Hello, Cassius. Please, sit down." He moved aside his books and Cassius gracefully settled in the seat before him.

"How are you doing in Hogwarts?" Cassius asked. "I hear you are very popular."

"Really? I am not hearing the same," Hadrian said amusedly.

Cassius smirked as if he knew he was lying and replied, "Yes, my brother will not stop talking about you."

"Your brother?"

"Anastius, your Quidditch captain," Cassius supplied.

Hadrian was surprised for a second. He had not known Cassius was a Zabini, but he should have guessed because, now that he thought about it, he and his brother were practically identical. Anastius had shorter hair and was more exuberant but they were definitely brothers.

"Ah, I had not known. He is the spitting image of you, now that I see it," said Hadrian.

"You are not the first to tell me so," Cassius said with a chuckle. "Forgive me if I do not discuss Quidditch with you, though."

Hadrian returned his charming smile and smugly realized that the boy was flirting with him. "That is all right; Anastius is one of a kind in that area. However, I prefer my books." Very true, though a part of him would have never said that before.

The Ravenclaw glanced at the books splayed out before them and nodded knowingly. "I see. You take History of Magic?"

"No. This is for my interests only," Hadrian replied.

Cassius gazed at him, and there was a predatory gleam in his eyes as he asked, "Anything I can help you with?"

An involuntarily shiver went through him when Hadrian looked back into those dark eyes. They seemed to pull him in and offered up oceans of pleasure. His own eyes must have mirrored the other's desire because Cassius appeared smugly satisfied for a moment. He wouldn't be surprised if they did. He hadn't had time for pleasure since Draco in the other universe. That had been a whole month ago for him. That was the longest time he could remember being without sex since his first time.

He thought of saying no but stopped himself. Maybe Cassius could help him find information about the Potters. After all, he was a pureblood and he had been going to school with one for the last five years. He couldn't outright ask about the Potters or it would be highly suspicious. But he could say he was researching about Light purebloods and avoid any suspicions.

In the end, Hadrian smiled coyly at him and said, "If you would be so kind."

Cassius leaned in from his seat. His deep voice washed over him pleasantly when he silkily said, "It would be my pleasure, Hadrian."

Hadrian was abruptly reminded of his first day of classes and Riddle's words. _It's my pleasure._

He banished the thought away in irritation as soon as it occurred to him. Once again, he disregarded the hollow echo deep in his chest that he was getting quite accustomed to.

**000**

Monday was here and Hadrian was a ball of excitement as he woke up as early as usual to witness the results of his small prank and headed to breakfast. It was sure to give him a few chuckles, at the least.

He was nonplussed when he reached the Entrance Hall and did not run into Riddle. Over the past week, he had gotten used to meeting the boy here. It was as if they were going on some sort of internal schedule that told them to meet there at exactly the same time. They then would walk to breakfast together and Riddle would sit in his usual spot while he sat in whatever seat he fancied that day. He knew it irritated Riddle when he interrupted their little hierarchy so he had made it a point to choose random spots to sit on the seventh-year end since his arrival.

But the Slytherin heir was not there today and Hadrian wondered if he was still ignoring him like he had been yesterday. That angered him and he felt indignant at the idea of the very person he came to this universe for shunning him.

Noticing he was pouting, he put on a neutral face as he entered the Great Hall. Riddle was already there and calmly eating his breakfast. He didn't even spare him a look when Hadrian started to walk to the table.

Feeling extra vicious because of this, he took the seat right next to him and smiled when Riddle turned narrowed eyes on him.

"Good morning, Riddle," he greeted, then reached for a drink.

"Black," Riddle returned curtly before going back to his food.

Hadrian, satisfied with the reaction, tuned out everything until the other students started pouring in. Lestrange got all prissy again once he noticed his seat was occupied so he took Dolohov's. Jezebel, who usually sat next to Lestrange, threw him an amused look when she got there and Adelina, who sat across from her and left to Rosier, giggled behind her hand.

"Good morning, Hadrian," Jezebel purred in that sultry voice of hers.

"Morning, Jezebel. I trust you had a good night's sleep," he said while discreetly looking around the hall to make sure everyone had arrived. It was only a matter of time.

"Oh, yes. The same could be said of you, though," she said mischievously.

Distracted from his perusing of the hall, Hadrian turned to her confusedly. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I certainly noticed you and a certain Ravenclaw pureblood being quite thick in the library yesterday," Jezebel replied with a smirk. "Ni tcaf, I llacer uoy gintivni mih ot ruoy moor sdrawretfa."

Hadrian forgot all about her insinuations and tried to keep in a snort as he and many other people in the hall said, "What?" at the exact same time.

Jezebel looked baffled for a second before saying, "I said, I was uoy gintivni mih ot—"

"What?" went around the Great Hall for the second time.

"What's wrong with you?" Adelina asked, giving her friend a funny look. "Yhw era uoy ginklat ekil taht?" She put a hand over her mouth in horror as she noticed what she was saying.

"What the hell's going on?" someone shouted and Hadrian had to put up all his Occlumency shields to keep from falling on the floor and rolling around in laughter.

It got better when Headmaster Dippet got up to address everyone. "Students!" he called and smiled when he realized he had said the correct word. "Esaelp mlac nwod. Ew lliw yrt—"

Someone laughed and that set off a chain reaction as the headmaster stopped in embarrassment and, soon, the whole hall was laughing.

"Hey, siht si ytterp looc," somebody voiced, then laughed at their words.

While most everyone found this funny, Hadrian found that this was not the case for most of the Slytherins. They were eloquent people and did not like to stumble on their words. He turned to see Riddle with a calm and indifferent expression as he took his wand out and started waving it about experimentally. Disappointed in his House's lack of a sense of humor, Hadrian tried to look neutral and took his wand out with the rest of them.

"Look!"

Everyone turned to where one of the Hufflepuffs was pointing to see the message he had left on the back wall. In a spidery script that no one could connect with his handwriting were the words:

_Courtesy of Messrs. Moony, Padfoot, Prongs, and Shadow. _

"Huh? Ohw eht kceh era yeht?"

"What?"

Hadrian smiled inwardly and continued to feign finding a counter to the prank. The professors were doing the same and he noticed Dumbledore was already sitting calmly with that damnable twinkle in his eyes. He stopped what he was doing when he saw Riddle putting his wand back in his robes with a smug look on his face.

Riddle noticed him watching and asked with a smirk, "Having problems, Black?"

Hadrian narrowed his eyes back and waved his wand once more. "Not at all, Riddle."

This, however, only served to make the boy's smirk widen. "I thought not."

_What the heck?_

Hadrian looked away in annoyance when Riddle's eyes flashed knowingly. The Slytherin couldn't possibly know that he was behind the prank, could he? He had been careful, he was sure. The message had made it seem like it was done by four people and he wasn't yet chummy enough with anyone but his cousins to execute a prank with. And, if the looks on Abraxas, Orion and Cygnus's faces were anything to go by, they would never participate. Though he was certain Alphard would, as he was talking even more than usual and not bothering to try to counter the prank.

So how could Riddle tell it was done by him? Hadrian sneaked an apprehensive glance at the boy. Could he know what his nickname pertained to? He had been using it left and right and Riddle was sharp so if anyone knew anything about it, it would be him.

_Agh, what an idiot I am,_ he groaned as his conspicuous behavior caught up to him. _I have to be more careful now if Riddle did find out. _

Another glance at Riddle confirmed for him that that was a definite possibility. At least the boy didn't know his Animagus form, and he would like to keep that and all his other abilities to himself. Had he known Riddle was watching him or was this perceptive, he would have been more cautious. Now he would have to be vigilant of where he read his Parseltongue books.

By the end of breakfast, most of his House had gotten the counter and the ones who didn't were helped by the ones who did, if only because they didn't want their House to be further embarrassed. The other students enjoyed Hadrian's prank a lot more and, while some did get rid of it, most had not wanted to or didn't put too much effort in it. He figured their professors would make them soon enough during classes.

Hadrian went through the rest of the day until his much awaited Double Defense Against the Dark Arts class before lunch trying to contain his laughter at some of the goofier students who thoroughly abused the prank. In Defense Against the Dark Arts today, they would be assigned their term project. The project was about curses and he thought it would probably be a breeze, though their professor hadn't elaborated on it yet.

When most of the Slytherin and Ravenclaw seventh-years who were in the N.E.W.T.s class started entering the classroom, their professor, Galatea Merrythought, was already there and waiting for them. Hadrian and the other Slytherins sat on the far side of the room by the windows where the Slytherin territory was. He smiled at Cassius when he took the seat next to him, the last one on the Slytherin area and next to the first of the Ravenclaws.

"Good morning, Hadrian," the Zabini heir greeted as he returned his smile.

"Morning," Hadrian said. "I see your speech is well."

"Ah, yes. A most unexpected development this year. We are not accustomed to such mass pranksters—left even the professors affected. I did appreciate the work of the magic, however. It took me several tries," said Cassius.

Hadrian smiled, pleased with the admiration, and refrained from saying the 'thank you' that almost left his lips. "It was pleasantly challenging, _non_?"

Cassius smiled in that way Hadrian had noticed he would do whenever he let even a little of his French background show. "Have you heard from Cosette? I do not know why she owls me asking about you when she could simply get it from you firsthand."

"But you know Cosette. She knows I will not notice the gossip, much less tell her about it. She has written to me about negligible things, asking whether I like it here, how it compares to Beauxbatons…. I had thought it odd but I see now that she gets her information from elsewhere," Hadrian replied with an amused shake of his head.

"I do not give away much, if that is what you are worried about," Cassius said softly.

Hadrian gave him a mock offended look. "I should hope there is nothing _for _you to give away. I like to think myself a little more unobtrusive than that."

"No, no. Of course not. You are the perfect Slytherin from what I have already seen," the midnight blue-eyed boy replied with a chuckle.

Before Hadrian could say anything, the bell rang and Professor Merrythought got out from behind her desk to address the class.

"As you are all aware, today is the day that you will be assigned your term project. You will be working on it with a partner that I appoint. This will take up most of the term and will be due the last Monday of November, which is the twenty-ninth," she explained as she started to slowly pace the length of the classroom and watched her students. "This project will account for more than half your grade this term and, should you and your partner succeed in doing it well, your end of term exam will be a walk in the park for you.

"Now, what this project covers is an extension of the advanced curses we are studying this term. You and your partner will be required to make something from scratch and protect and ward it to the best of your abilities. Along with that, you will need to make it so the rest of your classmates will be able to detect and be able to break your wards. Mind, this does not mean that you should make it easy for them to do so. In fact, the pair whose project is so well protected that no one else is able to break into it even when they have made it possible will automatically receive Os on their practical exam."

There was excited chatter at that part. How lucky would they be if they could skip their practical, which, in Defense, class was much harder than their theoretical. Hadrian himself couldn't care either way as one part of him excelled in theory and another part in practice.

Merrythought held up a hand to shush them. "I know you are all excited about that but let me remind you that you will get extremely good at breaking each other's curses by that time and I doubt one pair could ward it so well with the little time and no prior experience that you have. It will be interesting to see if there is a pair among you who could do so, though. Before I elaborate on this and give you your assignment sheets, however, I will tell you who your partner is. Your project partner will be your working partner for the entire term and you will be sitting with them from now on."

Some people voiced their disappointment in this as there would no doubt be some who ended up with partners they did not like. It wouldn't be so bad, though, as Slytherins and Ravenclaws got along better together than they did with the other two Houses.

Merrythought grabbed a parchment from her desk and held it up to her face as she read it off. "All right, I want everyone to get out of their seat and stand around the room. Once I announce the pairs, I would like you to sit in the seats I designate."

Everyone moved to do as she said and pretty soon the whole class was circled around the room and waiting anxiously for their seat and partner to be revealed.

Merrythought started with the two-seated desk closest to the door and pointed to it as she read off the first pair. "The first pairing will be Rosalina Parkinson and Caprice MacDougal," she said, then waited for the Slytherin and Ravenclaw girls to take their seats. After that, she moved behind them to point to the next desk. "Right here will be Isabella Yaxley and Cassius Zabini. Next to them, Antonin Dolohov and Estella Flint—"

And so it went on like that with her sometimes pairing the two Houses opposite each other or with someone of their own House. By the time she got to the fourth and last row, Hadrian still hadn't gotten called and he was starting to get impatient.

"Right here will be Adelina Selwyn and Ouranos Durante," Merrythought said while pointing to the first desk in the last row. When the Slytherin girl and Ravenclaw boy sat down, she moved to the one behind it and Hadrian perked up as he heard, "And next to them will be Hadrian Black and Tom Riddle."

Hadrian exchanged looks with Riddle without meaning to but immediately moved to his seat closest to the window once he realized what he was doing. Riddle sat next to him calmly and as if the spot was made just for him.

_Of all the people_, Hadrian thought as he sneaked a glance at the boy who was, even now, trying to ignore him. _At least it will be hard for him to ignore me now. And this might even be fun. Riddle's smart and I have a vast knowledge when it comes to wards and curses. _

_Don't deny it; this isn't all about learning. You love having the chance to spend time with him._

Ugh, there was that voice again. Why the bloody hell couldn't it go away and leave him alone?

_Shut up,_ he groaned tiredly.

"—And, finally, Abraxas Malfoy and Lance Brigham."

Hadrian looked back at the desk behind them as distraction and saw his cousin with a distasteful sneer on his face as he sat beside the Ravenclaw boy. He only had to wonder why he was so put out before he realized that Brigham was not a pureblood name and that the Malfoy heir might have been stuck with a Muggleborn. That was the only reason he could think of as Abraxas was all right with Riddle and Mellony Basset, the only other half-blood who was a Slytherin seventh-year.

_What if they don't know Riddle's a half-blood? Voldemort's followers certainly never did. But Riddle isn't a pureblood name so surely they could have figured it out themselves even if he had never told them, _Hadrian thought, turning back to the front of the room with an amused smile. _They just probably ignore it because he's the Slytherin heir._

Once the seating arrangements had been taken care of, Professor Merrythought proceeded to pass out their assignment sheet and they spent the rest of the hour discussing it all in-depth. After the bell rang, Hadrian gathered his things quickly and headed to where Alphard had taken to waiting for him at the door so they could go to lunch together.

"Black," Riddle's voice stopped him before he could get far and Hadrian turned around to show he was listening. "Were you planning on leaving without discussing the project?"

Hadrian raised a brow at him. "I thought we could take care of that later. During our free period perhaps."

Riddle stepped closer to him with his own finely cut brow raised and a haughty expression on his face. "Ah, so you presumed I would be waiting for you anytime you thought to seek me out."

"No, I didn't _presume_ anything. It's only logical to talk about it when we both have nothing to do instead of having to do so during a time like this," Hadrian replied as if it were the most obvious thing.

Riddle didn't lose his arrogant stance as he smiled thinly and swung his bag onto his shoulders. "Well, unfortunately for you," he said while putting his hands in his pockets, "_I _have something to do during my free period so I'm afraid your logic is unfounded. I will be in the common room later on so I expect you to meet me there at eight sharp."

Hadrian just barely kept his eye from twitching in irritation as Riddle brushed past him and sauntered out of there like he was the King of Hogwarts with his lapdog, Lestrange, at his heel. Who did the prick think he was? No one aggravated him quite like Voldemort could.

_He's not Voldemort,_ the voice put in unhelpfully.

_Quiet. Nobody asked you, _he growled before leaving the classroom and already thinking of what the best way of annoying Riddle would be by not meeting him.

**000**

Tom was in his favorite place in the whole school during his free period—the Chamber of Secrets. He had been putting off his search for immortality for long enough this year and he had decided to use this time to look through the books his ancestor had left in his hidden quarters down here.

Though he had been doing that since fifth year when he had found this place, he hadn't had the time or free motion to look through every book. After that sniveling girl's death, Dumbledore had watched him like a hawk so he couldn't sneak down here all the time and get away with it. It was a pity he still hadn't found a faster way to the Chamber yet.

The library in here was connected to the bedroom by going up the spiral staircase on the far right corner from the door. It was adequately big with a large collection of Salazar Slytherin's most prized books. There were even a number of Parseltongue books, though most of them were in the Slytherin Vault, one he would get to inherit this December on his eighteenth birthday.

Slytherin's Laws of Inheritance worked a lot differently from the other Noble families in where one became a Lord. Unlike them, he would have to be eighteen to inherit it. And, if the test and ring in the Slytherin Vault accepted him, he would be like royalty and considered a High Lord. It would certainly help with his plans and he needed to find some way to get away from Dumbledore to do that during the winter break. He had never left the castle during the break so it would be suspicious if he did this time.

Tom put those thoughts out of his mind and crossed the bedroom to go up to the library. He simply loved it in here; it was his sanctuary. Despite what one might think of the temperature in an underground place, it was pleasantly warm and clean in Slytherin's quarters. The rest of the Chamber hadn't been so well kept when he first came here but he had tried to keep it as clean as possible.

The library was a circular room with bookshelves built into the wall that went up as high as the ceiling. On the one empty wall there was a large mahogany fireplace with black leather furniture surrounding it.

What Tom liked best was the large tome on a pedestal that was in the middle of the room. Because of this, he didn't need a ladder or spells to levitate to the higher books. All he had to do was search the tome for the subject he was looking for and select the books he wanted from the list the book showed for that section. They then would come down to rest on the table in the middle of the furniture.

He stepped up to the pedestal and opened the tome to a random page. Pointing the tip of his wand to it, he spoke the subject he wanted to search for, "Immortality."

The book flipped through a number of pages before settling on one that was headed _Immortality_. There was a list of books below the heading and the first ones on it were highlighted in red. He was going in order so he wouldn't miss anything so he highlighted each one he had already read.

Tom tapped his wand on the next five books on the list and then looked to see each book floating to the table from a different spot in the bookshelf. Once they were all set on it, he walked over and sat on the armchair facing the fireplace.

The first book he grabbed was thin and he only skimmed through it when he realized there was not much information. It only provided speculation on the possibility of immortality whether in terms of physical, mental, or psychological immortality. While a good read, he needed something more than theories so he quickly moved on before he wasted his free period.

The next one was a large black and gray Parseltongue volume without a title. Intrigued, Tom sat up straighter and eagerly opened the book. This was the most promising one he had run across so far and, though he doubted it talked only about immortality, it had to be interesting either way.

As much as he would love to read the book from the beginning, he didn't have the time so he searched for the section on immortality. The book flipped to a page three-quarters of the way into it and titled _**Plastination**_. It talked about preserving body tissues in a way that allowed one to keep it healthy and exactly the same. The idea wasn't very appealing to him and it was much too painful for something that only kept the body from growing too fast.

For the next hour, Tom lost himself in the book and ran into countless theories on a way to immortality. Most of them were only guesswork and the others were much like the Plastination technique. But he wasn't yet through with the book and it did give him many ideas on how to come up with a way on his own should he not find anything.

Turning another page, Tom stopped as he saw the next heading:** _The Ancient Ability_**. He was startled, to say the least, because he had not known the Shadows were a way to immortality. He didn't know much about them but something like that should have been mentioned from the little he had read. This book, though, had much more information on the one section than he had ever seen elsewhere.

_:The Ancient Ability:_

_Not much is known about the Shadows, or, better known as, the Ancient Ability. What little is known about it is usually through ages of observation and guesswork. Among the few facts that are explicit is that there can be only one Shadow Lord (the title given to one who masters the Shadows) at one time. Anyone who attempts to become one while there is another will fail. _

_The Ancient Ability gets its name for its rarity and the purportedly dangerous trials to become a master. The first Shadow Lord is believed to have come about even before the time of Merlin. Since this master, Shadow Lord Zephyrus, there have been about 7-9 of them and each one uncovered something else the Shadows are able to do. _

_The time frame between each Lord is quite large and there has never been fear of one being around while another is trying to become one. The last known Shadow Lord was around two centuries ago. Shadow Lord Ambrose Halifax is the most powerful Shadow Lord since and is believed to be the one who uncovered the Shadows' secret to immortality. _

_While immortality is only theorized by the rumors that surrounded Lord Ambrose's untimely demise and later revival, there are other—more practical—things masters of the Shadows are known to do with their ability. The term masters, however, is used loosely because even though Lords have control over the Shadows, they also give something back for this control. It is not known specifically how or what the masters feed to the Shadows in return, but most of it is believed to be shadows to add to the ranks and strengthen them._

_For this, the Shadows give the Lord protection from most spells that are not too powerful, such as disarming, stunning, and summoning spells. Much of the Shadows' strength depends on the master's own power. This is proven by the fact that each Lord was more magically powerful than the one before them. Bloodline might also have much effect on it as each one also came from a more powerful and ancient line than the one before them._

_Unlike normal wizards, Shadow Lords do not Apparate to get from one place to another. While the name of their method of transportation is unknown, some have seen a Lord using it by surrounding the shadows around themselves and disappearing within its folds. This, however, is probably not the only way as both Shadow Lords Ambrose and Cyprian Peverell have used it even when there were absolutely no shadows around. The belief is that Lord Cyprian—the Lord before Ambrose—had found a way to leak out his own shadow and substitute it for stray shadows. Because it is so unknown, the Shadows' mode of transportation is unable to be warded or stopped in any way. _

_The Shadows also provide a way for the masters to hide. The Shadow Lord may blend in with any shadows he can find around or use it to make himself completely invisible. It is not known whether the master can hide in another's shadow but it could be possible given what is theorized of immortality within the Shadows._

_The training for a master is said to be extremely hard and demanding. No one is sure of this, but with the control and discipline exercised by all of them, it is a definite possibility. A Shadow Lord's elegance is absolutely unparalleled and it would take a lot of hard work for anyone to move as fluidly. Most have described a master's gait as a gliding motion that is hypnotic and exceptionally graceful. They have even likened it to a pleasant dementor._

_Theories of the Shadows providing immortality started when Lord Ambrose was seen dying on the battlefield at the hands of the then Dark Lord Alveus during the 1700s. The battle is still a mystery and no one has been able to figure out how the Dark Lord died along with Lord Ambrose and how Lord Ambrose's body disappeared. Years after the battle, there were reports of the Lord being sighted in Great Britain. To this day, much of it is only rumors and theories. There has been extensive study in the Department of Mysteries of how Lord Ambrose had survived but even they could only hypothesize._

_A Necromancion by the name of Ireneus Griffith founded the most promising theory of Shadow Lord Ambrose's alleged immortality__. While still not proven and frowned upon by realists, Griffith's study theorized that Lord Ambrose had used his Shadows in a way no one had ever done before. As already mentioned, each Shadow Lord uncovered something different about the Shadows than the one that preceded him so this must have been what Lord Ambrose had discovered, Griffith surmised. He believed that, before his dying breath, Lord Ambrose expelled his life force from his body through his shadow. _

_Without a shadow, his body would die as it is a fundamental part of a Shadow Lord and they never permanently give up their shadow. This is why Lord Ambrose then gathered the Dark Lord Alveus's shadow and ripped it from him. Even if the Dark Lord would not die, he would be like an empty vessel and would suffer something much like the Dementor's Kiss, only less severe. _

_With the Dark Lord's shadow, however, Lord Ambrose was able to give his body a shadow back and reenter it, along with his own shadow, which was permanently fed to the Shadows. Necromancion Ireneus Griffith further thought that using an alien shadow instead of his own left Lord Ambrose with a diminished essence, even if his shadow was now his to control and be protected by, it was also lost within the pools of Shadows that were at his command instead of serving as a comforting presence._

_Whether any of Griffith's speculations are true or baseless has never been proven but both sides had argued for years back in the 19__th__ century. A rumor of not only Lord Ambrose's survival but existence with a wife and three daughters has served to strengthen Griffith's theories as well. _

_Shadow Lords are complete enigmas to society and most of them were much more reserved than the famous Lords Zephyrus, Makarios, Phaedron Nucifora, Cyprian Peverell, and Ambrose Halifax so not even the number of masters is known. If there were indeed nine, however, we are missing the knowledge of a lot more things the Shadows can do._

Tom's mind immediately leaped to Black after he was done reading the passage. If any of this was true—and he had a feeling that it was—then he had underestimated the power Black had at his command and it was even more pertinent than ever to have him on his side. Though the book did not discuss much on immortality, it had given him information he had not known about the Shadows before. And now he knew why Black's elegance was so astounding.

The fact that Peverell had been a Shadow Lord at one point was new information to him. He wondered if the ability had anything to do with blood because he knew the Halifax bloodline was distantly related to the Peverell. While almost all the purebloods were related, the Halifaxes and Peverells were related through a female Peverell. Both lines had become extinct and instead descended through other lines. He would have to check if the Blacks descended from the Halifaxes as well.

As much as he wanted to continue on his search, he had a Double Herbology class in ten minutes. With a longing look at the books, Tom stood up and reluctantly left them behind. He would come back after dinner and before he worked on his project. Now he was looking forward to his appointment with Black and he supposed he would have to stop ignoring the boy, even if he got this inexplicable feeling around him.

If he wanted to make him loyal and have all his power within his grasp, it was time to turn on the Lord Voldemort charm.

**000**

As it was, Hadrian never had to find a way to annoy Riddle by not showing up to his imposed appointment. The answer quite literally fell into his lap.

After classes and dinner, he went to the common room to get to know the Slytherins more but it seemed that other partners had had the same idea as Riddle because a couple of the Ravenclaws had come over to start working on their project, including Cassius, who was sitting by the fireplace with Isabella. He hadn't thought Slytherins would invite the other Houses to their territory but he supposed the Slytherins from the other world were so uptight because they were shunned much more than in this one.

Amused at the speed with which they had gotten to work, Hadrian went over to Anastius and three other boys from the Quidditch team that were calling him over.

"Hey, Hadrian, we were discussing when to have our first practice," Anastius informed him as soon as he joined them. "Is there any day you would prefer?"

Hadrian sat down across from them and replied, "Not particularly. I am unsure of my schedule as of now. I have a project I am working on with Riddle so I may need to check with him."

"Well, the season starts in October so we were thinking on the third," the sixth year said. "That's on a Sunday. You can ask Tom and get back to us later."

"That's acceptable," said Hadrian.

"Great. Just to let you know, our team is very str—" Anastius stopped and glanced up with a glint in his eye.

Hadrian looked behind him to see what had captivated the boy. A smirk came onto his lips as he saw Jezebel coming up to the common room from the girls' dormitories with Laverna Bulstrode, her project partner. He assumed the look was aimed at the sultry girl because Laverna wasn't much of a looker. Hadrian turned back, intending on teasing the boy, but saw that the other three were just as mesmerized by her.

"If you're quite done drooling, boys," he said amusedly.

"How you can sit there so calmly and ignore her is beyond me. You're new and I've had five years to get used to her," Anastius said.

Hadrian lifted an unconvinced brow at the dark-haired boy. "I doubt she was such a vixen during your earlier years, Anastius."

"Either way," Anastius dismissed with a careless wave of his hand. "I suppose it's true what they're saying, then."

Leaning back in his seat, Hadrian asked, "What are they saying?"

"Well, that you aren't interested in girls," said Anastius and the other boys nodded along in agreement.

"Hmm," Hadrian said thoughtfully, "I don't recall not being interested in girls. I've made plenty of friends, actually."

Anastius gave him an annoyed look, as if he knew Hadrian was mocking him and was going to make him say the words. "Not like that. You're not attracted to girls, I mean."

Hadrian glanced back at Jezebel then said, "On the contrary, I find her rather luscious."

"Merlin, Hadrian, you know what I mean. You're gay," Anastius finally blurted out, though it was only in a whisper.

"Oh, is that all? Does that bother you?" Hadrian asked lightly. He didn't care if it did but he found it weird that it would. The wizarding world didn't care about homosexuality. It was perfectly normal since, to them, marriage was about compatible magical bonds and magic didn't segregate.

"Well, no, of course not. I'm not some Mudblood. Besides, I'm sure you're aware of Cassius's preferences," defended the Quidditch captain.

Hadrian ignored the vile word and glanced at the aforementioned Zabini heir and saw him writing on a parchment while Isabella spoke. "Oh, yes, very aware," he purred.

Anastius flushed slightly and glared at him. "Please, I don't want to know."

"I was not offering any information," Hadrian returned in amusement.

For the rest of the time until eight, Hadrian chatted with numerous equally obsessed Quidditch fans and they talked about everything from the sport itself to Beauxbatons to Grindelwald.

"A noble cause?" Hadrian questioned lightly when the Keeper, a tall, angular-faced, dark brown-haired fifth year named Argyros Filch, voiced his thoughts on the Dark Lord.

"Of course," he said arrogantly, "someone's got to decontaminate this world of all the Muggle and Mudblood filth hanging around. Why anyone would want anything to do with them is beyond me. Soon they'll be getting in our blood and producing foul Squibs left and right."

Hadrian contained the urge to sneer at him and tell him that his family would, in fact, produce the most despicable Squib he had ever met or to inform him that all this inbreeding was the cause of Squibs and that he shouldn't fool himself since there were probably some in his family. Hadrian knew there were some in the Black family.

"So crude, Filch," someone chided softly and Hadrian looked to see Cassius standing behind his brother's seat and wondered how he hadn't noticed the boy coming up.

The fifth year turned to him and questioned distastefully, "Don't tell me you're a Mudblood sympathizer."

Cassius scoffed. "Far from it. I despise the little cretins. But watch what you say; you are a pureblood, after all. It is unbecoming of you to dirty your tongue with such words and only against creatures who don't even deserve notice."

Hadrian winced inwardly at his harsh words and couldn't help reevaluating his opinion of the boy. Cassius had seemed like an intense boy who spoke only when it suited him and who regarded everyone else as if they were many years too young. He had liked that about the mature boy and their mutual interest in books helped as well.

His bright green gaze met the midnight blue of Cassius's and Hadrian once again found himself lost in them and his thoughts fell away like shattered pieces of glass.

"Good evening, Hadrian," Cassius silkily greeted. "I wonder if I could borrow you for the rest of the night. I wish to discuss something with you."

Hadrian knew when he heard an invitation and his body responded in kind as he felt that all too familiar spike of arousal. He gracefully stood up and smirked over at the Ravenclaw, vastly aware of several eyes on them at that moment.

"Certainly," he said smoothly as he moved from his seat and toward the stairs down to his dorm. "Please, follow me."

Cassius didn't need to be told twice so he immediately told his brother he would see him later and followed the gorgeous boy ahead of him, who was practically gliding in the air with the way he moved. They were alone in the seventh-year boys' dorm soon enough and Hadrian invited him in before closing the door and putting up a simple privacy charm.

Cassius sat on the bed that was directed to him. "Is this your bed? It was always empty from what I recall."

"Yes. It's unpleasant having to sleep all the way back here, however," Hadrian replied as he joined the boy several feet away on the edge of the bed. "I'm surprised you've seen it before, actually."

"Antonin and I used to be much closer back then," Cassius responded vaguely.

Hadrian wondered why that was relevant before his family trees came back to him. Cassius's mother would be a Dolohov if he remembered correctly. From his tone, Cassius sounded bitter about losing his close friendship to his cousin and Hadrian supposed Dolohov got in pretty thick with Riddle and dropped his cousin by that time. He had noticed that Cassius wasn't as subservient to Riddle as the rest of the purebloods or the school. That was a definite plus in his book.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he told the Ravenclaw.

Midnight blue eyes filled with warmth as they met his own and Hadrian was a little taken aback at the increased intensity in them. The attraction was now palpable in the cool room and the heat seemed to roll off their bodies. Hadrian briefly wondered what the hell was going on and why he didn't seem to be in control or wasn't his usually aloof self before he thought '_screw it' _and gave into the burning desire in him.

Cassius was the first to break as he leaned closer to him and murmured huskily, "Always so kind…Hadrian..."

Then their lips met and everything else just fell away and Hadrian allowed himself to enjoy the softness pressed onto him. A tongue licked the bottom of his lip and probed at him for entrance and he thought nothing of it as he granted it. As soon as their tongues met, one of them moaned and Hadrian was pretty sure it wasn't him because he knew it took more than that to get him worked up.

Feeling more in control and happy with it, he set out to discard any preconceived notions of how _kind_ he was to the Zabini heir. He was not kind at all. He was rough and demanding and possessive in bed and, as far as he was concerned, he liked it that way and Cassius better not be expecting some submissive guy.

Hadrian could tell the boy was surprised when he felt him stand up and push him back on the bed firmly without ending their kiss. He hovered on top of Cassius for a second as his legs adjusted to the new position and he settled himself in-between the Ravenclaw's legs, his knee pushing into the boy's erection. Cassius arched into the contact and brought his hands up to touch him anywhere they could reach.

As Hadrian's hands worked to get Cassius's robes off, he stopped playing chasing games with his tongue and instead latched onto the pale neck. He had a neck fetish, he would admit, even Draco had told him so. There was just something about a long, delicate throat presented to him for ravishing that really turned him on. And connected to a strong, firm jaw.

Hadrian was aware of letting out a low growl as he bit into Cassius's neck and immediately sucked on the spot, forming an angry red mark. Cassius was squirming by now and panting heavily into his ear while trying to claw off his robes as Hadrian's knee touched his arousal once every so often. Hadrian finally succeeded in pushing off the robes and eagerly started to undo the buttons on the boy's shirt.

"Merlin, Hadrian," Cassius said breathlessly. "I never imagined you'd be like this."

Hadrian didn't answer and instead flicked the last button off to reveal the well-shaped chest underneath. He straddled the boy's hips and groaned when their erections rubbed together deliciously. Before he could go any further, he threw off his robes and pulled off Cassius's whole shirt. Then he proceeded to once again draw the Ravenclaw into a heated kiss.

His hands roamed Cassius's chest and he stopped to once again rub the hollow of his hips when this caused the boy to shudder. He hovered over the fabric covering Cassius's aching erection and broke the kiss to look at the boy's face.

Hadrian groaned in satisfaction when he saw Cassius's mouth open in a silent moan, his eyes lidded and hazy with pure lust, and his hips trying to arch into his hand. The power he had over the situation hit Hadrian and he had to restrain himself from taking the boy right then and there. Merlin, if only Draco had given over like this, they could have had the best sex in all the worlds.

His mouth found Cassius's ear and he breathed into it as he asked, "Do you want this?"

Cassius wouldn't even be able to bring himself to say no as Hadrian's fingers were already working to get him out of his trousers. All he could do was shiver as the warm breath ghosted over his ear. He rolled his hips to get those fingers to touch him more but Hadrian had a firm hold on his hips with his knees.

Finally—finally!—a hand slipped into his pants and made closer contact with his jutting erection and Cassius would have been embarrassed at the loud moan he let loose if he had been aware of it. Hadrian watched him, quite transfixed and wondering if he had missed out on all the delightfully responsive sex partners. All of his had been experienced and strong characters since the roughness of it was what usually attracted him, but this was really a turn on!

Was it the Hadrian part of him? Was this why he was reacting so differently to sex? The old Hadrian himself was a soft person, though, and he suspected he would be a submissive. He couldn't possibly be so turned on by being in control.

_Quite the opposite. I'm so fucking turned on!_

**000**

Tom growled lowly as he checked the time again. Ten minutes had passed since eight and still no sign of Black! If there was one thing he hated above all else, it was disobedience. He most certainly did not appreciate having to wait for anyone. Black was really getting ideas above his station. Maybe it was time to show him who was boss around here.

"Anastius!" he barked at the Quidditch player Black had become closer to since yesterday. "Where is Black?"

Anastius looked properly nervous about his leader's ire directed at him before he replied, "He went to his dorm some time ago. I don't think he's come back up."

Without even thanking him, Tom swept past him to go down to the dorms. Once he got closer to the seventh-year dorm, he was surprised to hear the sounds that were filtering through the closed door. Was that somebody moaning?

"Oh…yess…Hadrian…"

Before he knew what he was doing, Tom was already in front of the door and trying to open it. Encountering a locking spell, he harshly flicked his wand and dismantled any wards on the room. Opening the door, his gaze turned to the right of the room and fell on the last bed in the row.

Freezing at the sight before him, all Tom could do was stare for a second. He had not expected to see Cassius Zabini being pushed into the bed by the seemingly soft Hadrian Black. Zabini was almost completely naked aside from his boxers and Black was wearing everything except his robes. It didn't take a genius to see who was in control here and, by the way the Ravenclaw was writhing underneath Black, it looked like he was enjoying the slow torture.

Feeling a most unpleasant _something_ stir in him at the sight, Tom reigned in his out of control emotions and stepped closer into the room. Black noticed him first and looked over his shoulder to see who it was. Exotic green eyes met his and Tom saw something in them that he was quite familiar with: _the high associated with having power over someone._

_Merlin, he looks delectable._

He kept his face impassive and let a bit of disgust seep into his voice as he said, "I seem to recall telling you to meet me in the common room at eight sharp. Get decent, Black, I expect to see you out there in five minutes. I believe you have a tower to get back to, Zabini. You will leave before I am forced to assign you detention."

He threw a withering glance at the Ravenclaw who had now sat up and was staring at him spitefully. Then he left the room in the most menacing way he could manage—which was quite menacing, actually. He could even feel his magic reacting and reaching out of its own accord, ready to act on this murderous intent directed at the Zabini heir all of a sudden. True, he had never quite liked the boy because of the ridiculous defiance he showed him but he had never been this hostile.

Everyone looked up when he entered the common room and they all wondered what had happened to get that look on the usually calm Slytherin heir's face. They could feel dark, enticing waves of magic prowling around the room like a caged animal. And no one was stupid enough to approach him and ask what was wrong; they just steered clear of the circle of furniture around the fireplace that was officially his territory, even if he no longer slept here.

Soon after Tom sat down, they saw Cassius Zabini come up, a slight blush on his pale face as he swiftly left their common room to return to the Ravenclaw Tower. By then, they were all watching discreetly as they pretended to go back to their conversation. The situation only got juicier as Hadrian Black came up—no, glided up—to the common room and went over to the Head Boy with absolutely no fear and sat down across from him.

They drew in a breath, wondering what was going to happen. But they were sorely disappointed because Tom knew exactly what they were doing and turned his anger on them. With a slight flinch at the feeling of the sharp, icy magic now directed at them, they turned to mind their own business.

Tom pulled out his wand and put up multiple spells in quick succession. When he finally looked at Black, the boy's emotions were completely cut off but he noticed there was a lack of the constant fierceness he had seen in the Shadow Lord's eyes.

Leaning back in his seat dauntingly, Tom silkily asked, "Care to tell me why you saw fit to ignore my instruction?"

Black also leaned back and tilted his head to the side. "Oh, forgive me, I was under the impression that I took orders from no one. How silly of me."

Tom narrowed his eyes at the cheek. "I am your Head Boy; of course you take orders from me."

"I must be misinformed, then. The Head Boy is responsible for _maintaining _order and administering discipline, yes? In this project, however, we are _partners_," Black replied, his eyes hardening now. "That means we work out when to meet—together—not you decide it yourself and expect me to comply. But you're probably used to that."

He was and he was unused to someone challenging his authority. Tom should have known that Black wouldn't submit, though; the challenges from earlier were clue enough. Regarding Black silently, he came to the decision that he would have to work slowly to get the boy on his side or Black would only push harder at him.

"All right," he conceded and took pleasure in the surprise that flickered through Black's eyes. "I suppose you are right. I should have worked the time out with you. But, next time, I would appreciate it if you would bring that up with me instead of handling the situation as you have."

Black nodded slowly, a suspicious look in his eyes. "All right."

Tom smirked inwardly at the look on his face and flicked his wand. His school bag zoomed over to them and landed on the table in-between them. "Then, shall we go over our project?"

Black allowed him to take out a parchment and a quill to write down any ideas. He sat back and performed a spell on the quill so it would write on its own.

"First off," Tom started, "let me inform you that I accept nothing short of the best. We are going to be the ones to win that little prize, even if I don't need it."

"That's exactly what I was thinking," Black replied with a smirk. "In fact, I thought we could go a step further."

"Hm?"

"Instead of creating something from scratch," Black said with an excited glint in his eyes, "how about _inventing_ it?"

Tom's brows raised at the ambitious suggestion. It sounded very intriguing. He had made his own spells before—simple ones—but he had never tried his hand at a physical object. It could take a long time, longer than three months. He watched the determined look on Black's face and thought they could most likely accomplish it. If Black had come up with the idea then he certainly thought it could be accomplished.

"Interesting," he finally said. "What did you have in mind?"

"Putting our strengths together will produce something that is possible," Black started, shifting so he could lean over slightly. "I believe the warding is the least of our worries."

Tom nodded, remembering that Black's father was a Ward Mage and had taught his son as well. "Assuming you are asking about my strengths, I would say Arithmancy and Ancient Runes."

Black nodded. "And Charms and Transfiguration would be from me. I believe we could put something together with this."

Tom had to agree, fully confident in their ability to do so now. It would also prove to be a very interesting experience working with Black. "I would have to concur."

**000**

It was almost October. Hadrian had done basically nothing but spend all his hours working on the project the whole month. It was proving to be even more fun than he had anticipated. He and Riddle, despite their dominance complex, worked together perfectly. They knew exactly what to do and who was to do it and how it should be done that it was going more smoothly than they could have hoped.

Hadrian had never thought he would meet someone else who loved magic as much as he did. Most people took it for granted but he supposed he should have suspected that from Riddle, who was so much like him that it was scary. They had both been orphans who only learned of their heritage when they came to Hogwarts. It was understandable that the thing that saved them from their pitiful existence would always be held in high regard.

Hadrian was slightly unnerved at the idea of working so well with his ex-archenemy but the worst of it was the draw he felt towards him. He absolutely looked forward to their days together and whenever those days came his skin prickled anytime he was near the boy. Whenever they touched, which was occasionally, the electric current from the first time they had touched intensified. They shared heated glances every so often and it didn't bother Hadrian until later, when he left the boy's presence and cleared his head. At the rate they were going, they would soon be on first name terms and that really distressed him.

Their invention was a simple concept that they had continued to add ideas to. They were actually thinking of expanding it even after they turned it in. Hadrian had come up with the idea when looking at the Marauder's Map while trying to think up the prank he would play on October. After going over it with Riddle, they had decided to use it.

It was what they decided to call a Scrying Compass. This compass wouldn't be telling the cardinal directions only but instead the locations of people, places, and just about anything they could fit onto it. While it would be simple until they handed it in for evaluation, they wanted to make it so even Unplottable locations wouldn't stand a chance against it. Highly ambitious and grand though it was, they liked the challenge and the fact that their raw power and talent put together allowed for a good team made it all the more reasonable to them.

Hadrian was so deep into his project that he hadn't paid any attention to Cassius since that day. The boy had approached him several times but they were all during bad times. Not to mention, he had pretty much lost interest in him, much like he used to in the old world. While bothered by the fact, he was not surprised that he was having so much fun with Riddle. He had come for him, hadn't he? And though he had expected Voldemort and someone to fight, as long as the aching emptiness in his chest was filled, why was he complaining?

_Because you just can't admit to yourself that Riddle shows you a good time._

He had become quite adept at ignoring that voice so he did just that. It had become a constant bother that commented on every little thought he had of Riddle and every little thing he did with the Slytherin heir. It just would not let up and would add to his worries that he might be warming up to the enemy.

_He isn't the enemy. When will you admit that? _

Again it was ignored and Hadrian abandoned his contemplations about Riddle and their project as he headed to dinner alone after dropping by his room to get the book he wanted to show Riddle when they would meet in the library to work together.

He was just about to turn the corner when he heard a familiar voice talking lowly.

"So what did your mum say?"

"I have to stay here."

Hadrian backtracked slowly and wrapped the Shadows around his form to hide himself. That was Sebastian and Harrison Potter. He hadn't been able to figure out anything about the boy the whole month and had forgotten his plan to subtly interrogate Sebastian. This could be his chance; Harrison was talking about his family.

"What?" Sebastian sounded incredulous. "Seriously? Why would they do that? Don't they know how important this is to you?"

Harrison sighed dejectedly and replied in a frustrated voice, "Yeah, they do. But everyone's so worried about Grindelwald. They say he's moving here and they don't want me to get caught up in it."

"They're just planning to have the ceremony without you?" Sebastian questioned. There was movement, then, "Harrison, this is your brother, too, even if you never got to know him that well."

"I know, it's so unfair. I'm sure James and Lily would have wanted them to wait until I got out and was able to attend. Actually, James would have told them to screw Grindelwald and get me there," Harrison said with a small chuckle.

"What are you going to do?"

"I've argued as much as I can, but you know my parents. They're so old and such sticklers when it comes to tradition."

Silence for a second before Sebastian sighed and said, "We'll figure something out. I'll even talk to them if you want. For now, let's just get down to dinner."

"Yeah. Thanks, mate," Harrison said and there was louder movement now as they walked away.

"No problem." Sebastian's voice was becoming faint but he still heard the question, "Hey, did they ever find your nephew?"

Once he could no longer hear them, Hadrian felt his bones stop working as he processed what was said. He slid to the floor, Shadows still obscuring him from view, and all thoughts of dinner, Riddle, and their project were completely forgotten.

* * *

**TERMS:**

_**Plastination** _- a technique used in anatomy to preserve bodies or body parts. The water and fat are replaced by certain plastics, yielding specimens that can be touched, do not smell or decay, and even retain most microscopic properties of the original sample.

_Necromancion - _made-up word for one who studies and theorizes about Necromancy/Necromancers

* * *

Now you know more about the Shadows, though that's not even close to all of it. Pay attention, it is important to the story! Information about the Slytherin Inheritance is pretty relevant too so don't think I just put it there for the heck of it. And, finally, the thing about Zabini: I always imagined Blaise's gorgeous mother was the black one and the Zabinis are of Roman descent. I don't know if that's true but no one really knows if she even married his father anyway so I'm keeping it that way. Either way, Cassius is important so you should keep an eye on him as well. I have no CLUE if the Filchs are actually pureblood but whatever, don't care until it is clearly disputed. I hope the OCs don't worry you too much but I've really got nothing to work from seeing as it's a totally different place. There are other really important canon characters, though.

Just to let you know, I won't be going into full detail on any sex scene until it's just Hadrian and Tom. I don't want to expend my energy and time on something insignificant. It'll prove to be hot when they do get together though (I'm not telling you when!). Moving on, I made a big blunder while I was looking for a calendar back in 1944. I found one, but when I was checking what day September 1st was on I looked at the 1943 one! It wouldn't have been a problem if September 2 (the day classes start) wouldn't have been on a Saturday in 1944 so it's too late for me to change that since I made them go to classes. From now on, I will be going by the 1943 calendar, though, it's too late to undo it. (This means Halloween will be on a Sunday instead of a Tuesday.) I'm aware most people don't care about this but I'm very conscious of such details and it really bothers me and I just wanted to put it out there in case anyone else is like me.

_For anyone wanting to see the seating arrangement of the DADA classroom, the bedding arrangement in the Slytherin 7th year dorm, and the hierarchy at the 7th year end of the Slytherin table go to my profile to get the link._

* * *

Edited: 1/01/09


	6. Traditions Upheld

_**Hollow Thunder, Vital Lightning -**__Aariya_

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle

Genre: Drama, Romance, Fantasy, Action/Adventure

Summary: Life after Voldemort is ideal and perfect for everyone except the one who made it possible. Unbelievably bored and unhappy, Harry performs a spell that will take him to an alternate universe where he can be happiest with Voldemort. Even he hadn't expected the outcomes or how the spell would misinterpret his desires.

Warnings: _slash_; AU; Slytherin!Harry; Dark!Harry (sorta)...and another one I took out that you will have to figure out for yourself; it's kind of crucial to the plot so I can't tell you!

Spoilers: Compliant with first five books and includes information from six and seven.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter, unfortunately, is not mine, but I do own the plot and (most likely) all the characters and concepts you don't recognize.

.-.

"HTVL" - English, or other human languages

_HTVL - Thoughts, Spells, Special Text (titles and such)_

_"HTVL" - Parseltongue, Incanted Spells, or a language within a language _

_**HTVL - Parselmagic (spells and the language in writing)**_

Chapter 6: Traditions Upheld

* * *

Hadrian's mind was reeling. He could not believe what he had just heard. It was unmistakable what Sebastian and Harrison were discussing.

It couldn't be a mere coincidence that they would bring up a brother of Harrison's whose name was James and was connected to Lily in some way. And, by the way they spoke of them, they were probably already dead.

His heartbeat sped up as all of this ran through his head. Could he really have been Harry Potter before he became Hadrian Black? How did he end up here and why didn't he know anything about it?

_Does…does this mean my parents aren't my parents?_ Hadrian's breath hitched at the thought and he almost choked as his heart practically leaped into his throat.

A burning feeling accompanied his loss of air and, when he tried to identify what it was, he found it to be that sharp stab he associated with betrayal. He had felt it when Ron turned on him during the Triwizard Tournament and even more prominently when Mundungus Fletcher's coward, swine-self gave away vital Order information during the war to Death Eaters who had captured him. Oh, he had enjoyed torturing the man with his own shadow wrapped around him after the rescue mission.

_Oh, Merlin. No, no, no, no! They wouldn't do this to me! They just can't! How can they lie to me like that?_ He was well on his way to a panic attack as he pictured all the worst-case scenarios.

His hurt over the parents he loved to death possibly lying to him about his parentage was completely clouding his logic. Before he could plunge headlong into very depressive thoughts, though, a couple of late stragglers passed him on their way to dinner. They didn't notice him but one of them shivered when he brushed past a stray Shadow. A short stimulating shock went through him at the touch. This happened whenever someone touched his Shadows when he didn't want them to.

Hadrian snapped out of his stupor and slowly got up. Taking a few deep breaths, he tried to calm down and think about this rationally. There had to be a good reason he was the son of Regulus and Adrianna Black. Though he now doubted that he had never been Harry Potter in this universe, something big must have happened to change that and he had to give his parents the benefit of the doubt.

And he had actually thanked Fate for giving him a simple, loving family.

_You just love to fuck me over, huh?_ he thought as he looked up as if he were watching the heavens. He could imagine Fate laughing her arse off and enjoying the show somewhere.

"Hadrian?"

Hadrian's head snapped to the side in surprise, not realizing that he had unraveled the Shadows in his bid to calm down.

"Alphard," he returned with a nod as he straightened up.

His cousin's eyes seemed to search his face for something before he asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" Hadrian said with a raised brow.

"You didn't show up for dinner. I wondered where you were," Alphard replied, his usually laughing eyes giving way for worry.

Hadrian smiled at him reassuringly. "I was just on my way there. There's no cause for concern, Alphard."

"You are sure?"

"Yes, yes. Come, I'm famished," Hadrian replied, slinging an arm around his cousin's shoulders.

The contact sidetracked Alphard from any more questions he wanted to ask and he grinned as they went in the direction of the Great Hall. Though no longer a raging storm, Hadrian's thoughts were still focused on his questionable pedigree. He resolved to figure it all out and confirm his suspicions before he confronted his parents to ask them why they had never told him.

**000**

Tom glanced up from his book when he saw Black entering the library a little after dinner with his long hair tied in a high ponytail, bag slung over his shoulder, and a large brown leather bound book in his hand. He was interested to know what it was and why Black had been so adamant that he see it.

Black sat in front of him on the round table and pushed the book toward him without a word. Tom raised a brow at this unusual behavior but Black had already turned away and seemed to be far off in his thoughts. He would have speculated what was wrong had he not seen the title of the book before him.

_Curses and Wards of the Ancient World_.

His eyes widened as he ran a hand reverently over the cover. The book had come out this summer and Tom had seen it in a bookstore in Knockturn Alley. He hadn't had the money to buy it but had planned on adding it to his collection as soon as he gained his full inheritance. It was an extremely expensive book and it covered all kinds of curses and wards that were long forgotten or much too powerful for the average wizard to cast. Tom was confident that he would have no problem with it and Black apparently didn't—not that he had ever doubted it with that powerful aura calling to him every time.

"I was interested in reading this," Tom voiced distractedly.

"It is a tremendously good read," Black agreed and Tom turned away from his fascination to see his partner smiling. "Everyone should get a chance to read it, even if some are unable to perform the spells."

Tom was silent for a second as he considered what Black was offering. It was obvious the boy was giving him a chance to read it independently of their project.

"And what would one who was given that chance have to provide in return?" he asked cautiously.

Black smirked at him and leaned back in his chair. "Nothing," he said simply.

The word didn't register for a second. Tom was very unaccustomed to someone giving something and not asking for anything in return, thus why he could not believe a Slytherin would say this.

"Come now," Tom drawled, "surely you do not expect me to believe you want nothing in return."

"No, I do not expect you to, but you must anyway," the emerald-eyed pureblood said with an amused twinkle in his eyes.

Tom studied his Housemate suspiciously. What was he playing at? Was this that Hufflepuff nature he had heard of from Black's cousins and witnessed occasionally shining through? He had thought it an act but was there a Slytherin who could actually be like this? It was slightly discomfiting to say the least. He did not like being thrown off like this or being unable to figure someone out with a little study.

Black continued to look amused as he was scrutinized. Finally, Tom decided not to look a gift Aethonan in the mouth and nodded his appreciation. Black didn't seem to mind that he was incapable of thanking anyone sincerely and kept on smirking.

He still thought Black had an alternate reason for not asking something in return but Tom put that aside as he flipped the book open and earnestly perused it. His partner wasn't put off about being ignored and was, in fact, already lost in his thoughts again.

While he briefly wondered what was distracting Black so much today, Tom was much too busy giving his attention to the ancient magic to care too much. Neither boy really worried about their project, the real reason they had met here that night. They were ahead in their work, though, so they could afford to skive off for one day.

They sat in companionable silence without really realizing it as each did their own thing—Tom feverishly looking through the book and Black lost in whatever troublesome thoughts that were plaguing him.

After a while of silence, Tom was interrupted from his reading when Black stood up. He glanced up at the slightly shorter boy to see him moving in a detached manner as he grabbed his bag and straightened up a bit.

"Well, then, I suppose we'll have to postpone our work until the ninth," Black said.

"What is wrong with the thirtieth?" Tom asked, wondering why the boy wanted to skip a whole Thursday, Saturday, Sunday, Tuesday and another Thursday before their next meeting.

"I will be busy next week and Quidditch practice starts on the third. The earliest day I am free is on the ninth," replied Black.

For a split second, Tom was annoyed that he was getting pushed back on anyone's schedule. He was the Heir of Slytherin; he waited for no one. In the end, though, he only nodded and Black uttered a 'good night' and left.

_What the hell is wrong with me? Anyone else and they would have been hexed within an inch of their life for that,_ Tom thought but the anger he was trying to make himself feel just wouldn't come.

_He's more important than a mere 'anyone.'_

Tom turned back to the book in an effort to ignore the voice that kept coming back to taunt him. He was really starting to doubt it was his own conscience.

**000**

He had waited long enough, Hadrian decided. It was Saturday, the second of October—three days after the day his supposedly perfect life had come crashing down. He had come up with a plan to learn more about what Sebastian and Harrison had been discussing.

He was ready to put it into action today when Harrison and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team went out to practice. Sebastian would be alone for a few hours and he would say he wanted to spend some time with him before the Quidditch season officially started for him as well tomorrow.

Hadrian was up early as usual, even though it was Saturday. He spent the time until ten waiting in the library impatiently for the Gryffindors to go out and practice. So he was surprised when Sebastian came into the library alone at around eight.

Sebastian spotted him instantly since his table faced the entrance. "Morning, Hadrian."

"Good morning, Sebastian. You are up surprisingly early on a Saturday," Hadrian said, knowing intimately well that most Gryffindors generally slept in when they could.

The sixth year sat in front of him and sighed as he said, "Yes, but I have to do some research to help Harrison. I'm using the opportunity while he has Quidditch practice."

This confession caused Hadrian to grin inwardly. It was perfect! Sebastian was skipping over a lot of unnecessary talk that he had been prepared to go through by bringing up the subject himself.

"Is something bothering Harrison? I have noticed him looking upset this past week," Hadrian prompted.

It was true, too. Harrison had been walking about as if a black cloud were following him around. Anyone with eyes could see that he was distressed about something.

"Yeah," Sebastian replied and Hadrian held his breath in anticipation as the rest of the explanation followed. "Every Halloween, Harrison's family has a Day of Remembrance for his brother, James. This year, however, his parents say he can't come home for the ceremony because of the continued threat of Grindelwald."

Had he not been a pureblood, he wouldn't understand the significance of a death anniversary, but now he found himself appalled at Harrison's parents. He had been to Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Party but back then he had only thought it a silly party Nick had wanted to hold for fun.

He understood now, though, and knew that having a Day of Remembrance for someone in a pureblood family was a big deal. Neither family he came from had something like that for anyone of honor. For the Potters to have one for James meant that he was the epitome of what their family stood for and they would forever remember him and his accomplishments on the day he died.

Wait, had Sebastian said Halloween? What was with this date always haunting him? No matter where he went, he could not escape it. It surprised him that James died on the same day here as well as in the old universe, even if it wasn't the same year.

"Harrison has a brother?" he inquired.

Sebastian nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes. The best older brother anyone could ever have. Well, he died when Harrison was five so we didn't know him for long but that's more than enough time for James to impress anyone. He was so cool, truly. James was a really powerful wizard and he could do so much with little to no effort at all. He also had the best sense of humor and he never minded spending so much time with us. We didn't see him much, though, he was on the run most of the time."

Hadrian followed as much as he could of the younger boy's rambling and latched onto the last sentence. "What was he running from?"

"I'm not sure, but Harrison told me that he and his wife, Lily, lived in one of their family's old residence but one day they suddenly came to the main estate. From what I've heard, they were attacked and Lily was no longer pregnant but there was no kid with them," Sebastian replied, and then gave an exasperated sigh. "No one really knows the full story and it's all just speculation, but we figure that she gave up the baby for some reason. Since that day, they kept going back and forth from the main estate to other areas, as if they were running from something or someone. On Halloween of '33, they went back to Godric's Hollow—that's where it all started—and, after an hour or so, Professor Dumbledore came to find the cottage completely decimated and both James and Lily brutally murdered."

Hadrian was totally enraptured, despite the dryness of his throat and the way his chest constricted as the story progressed. "Albus Dumbledore?" he asked after making sure his voice wouldn't crack.

Sebastian nodded and filled in, "He lives in Godric's Hollow, too, and he's good friends with the Potters."

"Huh, I had not known that," Hadrian voiced, his thoughts briefly turning to his old mentor. He wondered why Dumbledore had never told him that he used to live in Godric's Hollow, supposing that was still the same in his old universe.

A lot of things were turning out to be the same, though. He was shocked to learn about James and Lily's death. But what really shook him was what Sebastian had said about Lily probably giving up her baby. Why Sebastian had been asking Harrison about a nephew made sense now if that was their theory. If he were anyone but who he was, Hadrian would have probably not believed this had anything to do with him. However, this all seemed plausible when it pertained to Harry Potter, or any persona of him—though this pointed to the likelihood of him being Harry Potter anyway.

"Not many people do." Sebastian's nonchalant voice interrupted his train of thought.

"What is it you are researching for that could help Harrison?" Hadrian asked.

"I'm sure you know the importance of a death day," Sebastian started and continued on as Hadrian nodded, "So there's got to be some laws about that. Harrison really wants to attend and we've been searching for something that tells us his parents can't deny him."

Hadrian sat up straight as a memory abruptly came to him. He had read about what Sebastian was talking about. In fact, it had been just last month when he had been feverishly searching for anything about the Potters. One of the things he had run across was a book on pureblood families' codes of honor. The Potters, being an ancient Light family who predominantly got Sorted into Gryffindor, held high esteem for things such as honor.

Sebastian must have noticed the dawning expression on his face because he broke out into a wide grin and eagerly asked, "You know something, don't you? Of course, you do! You're half-Malfoy; you've probably got all the pureblood laws down by heart!"

Hadrian held up a hand to quiet him and calmly stood up when he did so. Moving to the history section, he beckoned the sandy-haired boy. Sebastian stayed on his tail as he silently moved through the aisles until he reached a shelf dedicated to wizarding customs. He crouched down to look for the book and his eyes finally fell on the crimson cover. Pulling out the thick tome, he showed it to the excited Gryffindor.

"_Accolades of Wizardry: Pureblood Codes of Honor_. What's this? I've never heard of it," Sebastian said.

"It's part of a series, actually. The _Accolades_ discuss many wizarding customs that are not so widely known. They really distinguish wizards who grew up knowing magic their whole life from those who didn't. These codes are the first of the series and there are currently fifty-seven. Obviously, the entire series has been written by purebloods," Hadrian explained.

Sebastian took the book from him and opened it to the table of contents. "And does this have what I'm looking for?"

"Without a doubt," Hadrian answered with certainty. "If I'm not mistaken, there are pages dedicated to each prominent family and the Potters are definitely in there."

Sebastian's index finger trailed down the page and his face lit up as he stopped at one spot. "Here it is_. Potter: __Virtvtis Fortvna Comes_. Wow, even my family is in here! I can't believe I didn't know about this."

Hadrian shrugged. "There's too many of them and each volume is fairly long. Not many people want to bother with reading about customs that are mostly long forgotten. Of course, you know my love for books."

The younger boy was nodding absently as he flipped to the page where the section on the Potters started. "Yeah. Thank Merlin for that. This is great, Hadrian. I truly thought I would have to go through another fruitless day of aimlessly searching. Thanks a lot."

"Oh, no, thank _you_, Sebastian," Hadrian returned with a smile as he thought back to the information he was given about the James and Lily Potter of this world.

He was fairly sure he was their son somehow. Now all he would have to do was find out how he ended up a Black and why his parents had hid it from him. He was going to uncover the truth about his background one way or another.

His mother hadn't returned the second letter he had sent two weeks ago and he sometimes wondered at the delay. It had only taken her four days to reply to his first one so why was this one taking so long? Whatever the cause, he would start to subtly ask questions once the letter came back. He hoped his parents would prove him wrong and wouldn't do something like intentionally lie to him about his real background.

He loved them and wouldn't give them up for anything but the one thing he hated above all else was people withholding information about him. Dumbledore had done it until his fifth year and just look where that had gotten them. As long as his parents came clean about it, they could move on, though he would have really liked to have gotten to know James and Lily. But it seemed he would always miss out on ever meeting his biological parents.

**000**

The entire Slytherin Quidditch team was outside by 5:30 on Sunday morning, including the reserves. Though Hadrian was wide awake and ready to practice, he and Anastius were the only ones. The rest of the team was whining about their wasted sleep on their day off. Not to mention, the October chill was coming in and it was extra bad this early.

"Oh, belt up!" Anastius snapped when he got tired of their grumbling. "Now, we haven't won the Cup in three years and we are going to rectify that this year."

Hadrian raised a brow at them. "Three years?" he asked, thinking he wanted no part in a loser team. He was competitive and he always made sure he won—well, except for that one time the dementors knocked him off his broom and Cedric caught the Snitch.

Anastius nodded solemnly. "Potter's good. Ever since he joined in our third year, Gryffindor hasn't lost a game."

Hadrian winced sympathetically but he hadn't expected any less. Harrison had been good when they had played, even with a slower broom and him not being a Seeker. There was a reason he was the captain though there were players who had been on the team longer.

"But now we have a much better team," Anastius said quickly. "With me as captain, you as Seeker, and Dimitris joining us as Chaser, we'll be unbeatable. But for that to happen, we need to PRACTICE!"

The ones who had been nodding off in an effort to not fall asleep jumped at the unexpectedly loud voice. Hadrian tried to contain a chuckle at the way Argyros Filch was swaying on his feet. For a House that teased others, they were exceptionally inelegant this early.

Anastius sneered at them. "You lot are disgusting me. It's no wonder we have been losing to those Gryffindorks. Get your brooms ready! I don't care how tired you are. You knew we were going to practice today, you shouldn't have stayed up so late."

"Give us a break," groaned one of the reserves. "We don't even play in the games."

That earned him and all the other reserves who nodded in agreement an icy glare. "You would do well to keep your mouth shut! Our first game is against Gryffindor. I will not lose to them as long as I am captain!"

Hadrian had to admire his drive because the reminder that they could lose to Gryffindor come November certainly worked. Soon enough, Anastius had them flying countless laps around the pitch with the Bludgers trying to knock them off at the same time.

After an agonizing hour of that, no one could claim to be sleepy. Anastius then used fifteen minutes to test out each position individually, except the Chasers had forty-five for the three players and the Beaters had thirty each at the same time the Chasers and Seeker were being evaluated. The reserves were told to watch as they would get their chance to do this during the next practice.

Hadrian had been told to catch the Snitch as many times as he could while one of the Beaters aimed at him. Needless to say, he was glad he had a fast broom and really good reflexes. The Beater—a typically big boy named Royce Wilkes—didn't see the difference between practice with his own teammate and a real game against an opposing team—and it seemed Anastius liked it that way.

At exactly 7:45, Anastius decided it was time to call it a day. Even Hadrian was glad it was all over when he dismounted his broom. He hadn't seriously practiced for two whole months and his bones were protesting the sudden exercise.

Their captain, however, was right as rain as he gave them a dismayed look. "That was pathetic. You really need to shape up. Summer vacation doesn't give you the excuse to slack off. I expected better of the older players," he spat. "I warned you this team would be very strict and I take my job seriously. From now on we will practice for four hours."

The groans he was expecting didn't come this time and Hadrian figured they were disappointed at themselves, too. They probably thought they needed all that practice and would be that much more determined to win.

_Oh, oh,_ he thought. _Better watch out, Gryffindor. Slytherin's best trait is shining through. They will stop at nothing to beat you._

Anastius nodded in satisfaction. "Now, then, we have to figure out a practice schedule."

"I'm not free on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, or Sundays," Hadrian spoke before anything could be decided.

"How can you be busy on the weekend?" Anastius asked in irritation.

Hadrian leaned easily on his broom and drawled, "I have a project to work on with Riddle."

"_Oh_. Never mind, then. Okay, we'll practice Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays," the sixth year announced without even bothering to check with the other players.

They seemed to understand, though, since no one objected. They needed to practice three days and no one got in the way of Tom Riddle's schedule. Riddle had them so trained. Hadrian didn't bother to hide the whipping sound he made after that and the rest of them didn't pretend not to hear it. They glared at him but he just smirked back.

Once Anastius dismissed them, they went to the locker rooms to shower. Hadrian took his time while the others hurried to get to breakfast. He washed his long hair thoroughly and only came out when he was satisfied with the unknotting of his muscles.

He stepped out of the showers and grabbed his towel to dry off his hair as he headed over to the lockers. He didn't react when he saw Anastius sitting on the bench waiting for him, though the sixth year's eyes widened and he glanced away.

"Hey, Hadrian, how about some modesty?" he asked as he tried to contain a blush.

Hadrian laughed. "You have seen it all before," he said but stopped drying his hair to wrap the towel around his waist anyway.

Anastius turned back around as soon as he was sure Hadrian was covered up. "Can you just hurry up and get dressed?"

Hadrian wondered what was up with him but complied. His companion didn't look in his direction the entire time and Hadrian was starting to think it a bit childish that he went out of his way not to stare.

When he was dressed, he looked to his silent captain curiously. Sitting next to him, he asked, "Did you want to speak to me about something?"

"Yes," said Anastius, though he didn't sound as confident as he tried to be.

Hadrian waited expectantly but the boy said nothing further. He waited it out without pushing him, knowing Anastius was a little nervous and was trying not to show it. What could have the normally fun-loving Slytherin so nervous?

Finally, the boy straightened up with resolve in his seat. "I shouldn't be having so much trouble telling you this so I will go ahead either way," Anastius started. "You know how I think of Jezebel…"

Hadrian nodded encouragingly. "Yes."

"Well, it's much more than just a passing interest in her looks," Anastius continued.

"Are you in love with her?"

Anastius finally looked at him with an uncertain expression. "No. I don't think that's it. It's more like a very strong…desirability. But I think I could love her."

"So what is the problem?" asked Hadrian.

The sixth year sighed in exasperation. "I'm sure you can tell I'm not her type."

"I wasn't aware she had a type, actually," Hadrian replied with just a hint of amusement.

His amusement got him a frustrated look in return. "Well, of course she does. She's only been after blokes her age or older than her. And all of them were the same: like Tom or Abraxas or you."

"Me?"

"Yes. You've noticed I'm not exactly the epitome of a pureblood. I don't even act the way I should. You and Abraxas act the way a pureblood ought to. And Tom, though not pureblood, is more proper and elegant than all of the purebloods here," Anastius replied.

_At least I have my answer as to whether the Slytherins know their leader is a half-blood, _Hadrian thought.

He put a hand on the younger boy's shoulder until Anastius faced him, away from where he was staring at his hands. "Look, Anastius, it doesn't matter if you don't act like a pureblood. It's nice that you have your own character and you aren't afraid to show it."

Anastius scoffed. "Yes, I'm sure. The girls are just falling at my feet."

"I'm not going to lie to you. I'm no expert on girls," Hadrian admitted. Anastius gave him a look that clearly said 'no duh.' "I've only ever been with four girls before I realized they weren't for me. They're too soft in my opinion and their character is much too complex. They have double meanings to everything and you'd have a hard time keeping up with their temperament."

"Are you trying to convert me or something?"

Hadrian chuckled at the boy's blank face. "No, no. What I'm trying to say is that, although they may seem like they all fancy the same type, that is not the case. Almost everyone is attracted to glamour but it's only surface stuff. When it really counts, someone who appeals to others just because he carries himself exactly as he should wouldn't hold attention for too long. Behind every face is a personality and following the status quo of purebloods doesn't show much of it."

Anastius looked thoughtful for a second. "So you're saying underneath it all people like Abraxas or Tom have no personality?"

Hadrian shook his head. "No, I'm not saying that. I'm sure they do have a personality but they choose not to let it be seen. So one might end up liking what they portray in public but find that they do not care much for their character when they really get to know them. Like I said, glamour is attractive. Being a Slytherin is much like that. You keep up appearances and don't let anyone find out too much about what's really under it lest they use it against you," he explained. "Do you get what I'm saying?"

The sixth year nodded. "Yes, I get you perfectly."

"Good. I think you have plenty to like about," Hadrian said. "You're attractive but you're cool about it and you don't have to throw it in people's face. You are likable and easy to get along with. And I'm sure you know how to act like a proper pureblood when you want to."

Anastius lifted a doubtful brow. "Are you coming onto me?"

Hadrian stood up with a laugh and dragged the boy up by his hand. "Come along; I've already got my hands full with one Zabini."

Anastius laughed as he accepted his help and stood up to stand just three inches short of the older boy. He was going to be as tall as his brother someday. "You're one to talk of having character. My brother is the perfect pureblood heir and you are interested in him."

Snorting, Hadrian draped an arm over the boy's shoulders and joked, "But you are just a little kid. Find me when you have something more to offer me."

"Hey," Anastius said indignantly, "I am _not _a little kid. There's plenty for me to offer."

"So you _want _me to hit on you?"

The sixth-year Slytherin paused to rethink what he had said and Hadrian took the time to steer him out of the locker room with a chuckle.

**000**

Cassius was infatuated. Actually, what he felt could very well be classified as being above infatuation. He was never one to lie to himself and he always faced the facts. Hence, he was pretty sure he was quite besotted with Hadrian Black.

It had been gradual, actually, and he hadn't realized it until this summer. He had known Hadrian for a long time, since they were kids. It was unavoidable when one was a pureblood and attended balls. They hadn't spoken, though, until his fourth year. That had also been the year he had noticed he liked both wizards and witches.

Cosette—whose older brother was married to his cousin—had introduced them after he had heard enough about her _wonderful_ friend. Of course, he hadn't ever expected it to be someone he had seen already on occasion. It turned out those occasions were pretty dismal and that glimpsing and actually seeing Hadrian were two very different things.

It was true what they said (or really only what he heard Cosette say all the time), once one saw him, no one else could quite compare. That he could not get his mind off the quiet Black had confirmed for him that there was much appeal in his own sex. But, Merlin, Hadrian was so bloody gorgeous he couldn't fathom what boy could resist him.

From then on, he had developed a fascination with Hadrian. He hardly saw him but the few times he did were precious. Cassius watched him and studied him devotedly, slowly becoming fond of the boy's kind disposition, quiet intelligence, and radiating innocence that someone of the Black clan shouldn't project.

This summer, however, there had been something fundamentally different about the Hadrian he knew. He had been keenly watching him so, of course, he noticed when Hadrian's purebred grace turned into something beyond comparison. And he saw it when he was this much more social. He might not have talked to Hadrian much before but the boy was known for being reserved.

Then he had realized that instead of putting him off, these changes increased his affection for Hadrian to the point that he admitted he was actually quite smitten with him. It had been a dream come true when he had been so close to going all the way with Hadrian, though he had been surprised that the boy was not a submissive.

But that had been three weeks ago and Cassius was getting very frustrated. Every time he tried to get Hadrian alone, he had something to do. He was really starting to think Hadrian was deliberately avoiding him. Why he would do that was a mystery to him since he had gotten the impression that Hadrian liked his company.

Carding his hands through his hair, Cassius tried to calm his frustrations as he left the Great Hall and made his way to the library with Ouranos, Zian, and Nicolae, who were too busy talking about Ouranos's new fascination with Adelina Selwyn to notice his aggravation.

A canorous laugh interrupted his thoughts just as they reached the Entrance Hall. He turned to his left and his heart almost stopped at the sight: Hadrian with his arm draped over his brother's shoulders and another holding his broom over his left shoulder, looking as if he were enjoying himself. Anastius himself appeared smug and, though it could have been for some other reason, Cassius's raging mind jumped to the conclusion that his brother had his own eyes on the one man _he _had ever loved.

His vision turned red and he had the urge to rip his own brother apart. Then Anastius had the nerve to grin at him as if he didn't know what he was doing and didn't know what Hadrian meant to him.

"Morning, Cassius!" he called. "Did we miss breakfast?"

When Cassius could not answer, Nicolae did it for him, "No. We're only on our way to the library."

Anastius rolled his eyes. "Ugh, Ravenclaws. Breakfast isn't even over yet and you're already running for your books—on a Sunday."

Hadrian squeezed his shoulder hard and said, "I wouldn't mind going to the library either."

"Sometimes I wonder about you," Anastius said, hiding his wince.

Cassius narrowed his eyes at them. Their words and the contact sounded much too close to an innuendo for his liking. Hadrian's eyes turned to him and he smiled that beautiful, wonderful smile of his. Cassius couldn't hold his anger for long under that smile.

"Good morning, Cassius," Hadrian greeted softly. "How are you doing?"

Cassius straightened and put his mask back on, hoping his brief lapse hadn't been noticed. "Good morning, Hadrian. I'm fine, thank you. And you?"

"Splendid."

Anastius glanced between them confusedly, possibly wondering why they were being so cordial when everyone thought they were shagging. Which wasn't true but Cassius wished with all his heart.

Finally, Hadrian dropped his arm from around his brother's shoulders. "You go on ahead, Anastius. I have to put away my broom."

"Sure," Anastius said, making Cassius aware that he wasn't carrying his broom. He must have given it to one of his dorm mates to take it for him. "I'll see you guys later."

Anastius slipped away and Hadrian also headed to the dungeon staircase several steps away with a short farewell. Cassius turned to say something to him but he was already gone before he could stop him.

Damn, he'd missed his chance again.

**000**

Renatus admired the way the light of the fire played across Tom's face. They were in his dorm room because the annoying Hufflepuff as Head Girl had invited her friends again and ten of them were currently occupying the common room.

There hadn't always been a fireplace in the room, but Tom was just so brilliant that he had charmed a big one right into the wall across the bed (With just a flick of his wand!). Though he could tolerate it better than anyone else he had ever encountered, Tom hated the cold with a passion that puzzled him.

"Renatus." Tom looked up from his homework to address him.

"Yes, Lord Voldemort?"

"Do you not have anything to do other than watch me? No homework?" Tom asked as he stretched out his legs on his large bed.

"It's Friday," Renatus said, as if that explained everything.

And it did. No one but Tom did all their weekend homework on Friday. Tom gave him an amused glance but went back to his work without further word. Renatus hoped he would be done soon. He had been sitting in this chair staring at him for quite a while. It was nice to just watch Tom but he wanted to talk to him, too.

He was getting anxious. At first, he had just been content to secretly harbor these feelings for his future Lord but that had been before Abraxas had become his left-hand man in their fifth year. There had been rumors within Slytherin that when Renatus didn't go to the room only Tom had used to occupy before becoming Head Boy, Abraxas would visit him during the nights. Pretty soon, the whole school had been talking about Tom's apparent favoritism of Abraxas.

After that, Renatus had watched closely to see if any of the rumors bore fruit. He shouldn't have expected to find anything or had been as relieved when he found nothing. Tom was secretive and he had no doubts that he would be able to hide something like that. Either way, despite his relief, Renatus had started to worry.

Recently, there had been more to add to his worries: the transfer student, _Hadrian Black_. Renatus curbed the urge to growl angrily just at thinking that name. How he couldn't stand him!

Not only had he had the audacity to take his seat, but he was getting much too close to Tom. Before long, they would be on first name basis! That just could not happen.

He had also noticed the way they interacted. Tom hadn't yet lost his cool with him and someone who challenged his authority like that would have already been cursed so badly their parents could feel it. But besides that one time when Cassius had somehow been involved, Tom had not shown any other displeasure toward Black.

Those two cousins were causing him much consternation and it wasn't like he could be of much competition to them either. The only advantage he had was that he was closer to Tom and much more devoted to him and his cause. Though he wasn't too bad, when it came down to it, he had nothing on the fair beauty of Abraxas or Black's exotic allure. And Tom himself was so gorgeous he would look magnificent with either of them.

Renatus let out a frustrated sigh before he could stop himself and Tom immediately turned to him with a brow lifted in question.

"You appear troubled, Renatus," said Tom.

"I'm sorry for the interruption," Renatus apologized before Tom could show his discontentment.

Tom set aside his parchment and closed his open Ancient Runes text. He had to be done otherwise he would have ignored him. "It seems I am boring you."

"No!" Renatus was quick to say, then repeated more quietly, "No, Lord Voldemort."

His discretion was in vain, however, because Tom smirked that all-knowing smirk of his when he knew someone was lying.

"Renatus," Tom chided softly with a shake of his head, "you know better than to lie to me."

That and obedience had been Tom's favorite lessons back when Tom had gathered them. Even if one knew Occlumency, Tom's Legilimency was so much stronger that they had no chance. He would never forget it.

"Yes; my apologies."

Tom nodded and leaned back casually on the headboard, his stance clearly pronouncing he wanted to hear what Renatus had to say. For a moment, Renatus appreciated that Tom would let his guard down enough to be so casual around him. He honestly doubted anyone else had such a privilege, even though he still wasn't so sure about Abraxas.

This trust in him served to bolster his confidence. Renatus stood from the armchair by Tom's bookshelf that he always occupied and made his way over to the Slytherin heir. Tom watched him expectantly, his dark, entrancing eyes never wavering.

Once he reached the bed, Renatus stopped and lowered his head in a show of subservience and murmured, "My Lord."

Tom sucked in a breath that effectively masked his gasp. Renatus had known he would be very surprised, much as he tried not to display it. While everyone yielded to him and addressed him by his chosen title, _no one_ had ever actually recognized him as _their_ Lord. Renatus was the first and he was more than ready. He wasn't Tom's right-hand man for nothing, after all.

Glancing up briefly, he saw a glimmer of something he couldn't quite identify because he had never seen it before in Tom's eyes. Was it triumph or something else? Renatus watched, captivated, as Tom's eyes closed in a way that suggested he was savoring the moment. Then he opened them and smirked at him, looking enormously pleased.

"Renatusss," Tom hissed satisfactorily, the Parseltongue quality and the smooth tone with which his name was uttered in going straight to Renatus's groin. "This—_this _is why _you_ are my right-hand."

At the same time his fears of Black stealing his position were finally laid to rest, Renatus's heart soared and he couldn't remember ever being happier. Now to convey to Tom what he really wanted.

Picking his head up, Renatus stared entreatingly into Tom's eyes and said surely but still softly enough that it didn't make him sound too confident, "I would be happy to serve you in _any _way, my Lord."

Yes, he had gotten his message across. He could tell the moment Tom understood him: his eyes narrowed, his lips closed tightly together, and his whole face became unreadable. Not exactly the reaction he was hoping for but he was ready to argue his point.

"What are you endeavoring to tell me, Renatus?" Tom asked indifferently, still looking cold.

Renatus was starting to get nervous at Tom's aloofness but he plunged on anyway, "I can serve you much better than Abraxas, my Lord. Just give me the chance."

Tom laughed. It wasn't loud but it was more than Renatus had ever heard from him. Then, before Renatus was even aware of it, Tom's hand shot out and grabbed a chunk of his auburn red hair. He pulled him down hard, his long fingers twisting into the hair, until Renatus's face was inches from Tom's and he was looking up into Tom's eyes. Renatus couldn't even help the moan that escaped him at the rough contact. Merlin, as if he weren't already aroused.

Tom's lips curled into a smirk as he stared down at him. "Abraxas? I hadn't realized even my right-hand had been fooled by those rumors."

Dare he hope? "Then you have not chosen Abraxas as your consort, my Lord?"

Tom scoffed and tightened his hold, bringing Renatus even closer to his face so he could sneer, "Abraxas was a good fuck, but he doesn't deserve the title of my consort."

"A good fuck, my Lord?"

Tom released him and pushed him away so that Renatus had to catch his balance before he fell to the ground. "Just as countless others were. Surely, you did not think me a virgin?"

"No, of course not," Renatus replied and continued daringly, "But, my Lord, I wish to be more than just a good fuck. Have I not proven myself?"

Once again, Tom leaned back on his headboard casually. Renatus tried to stay calm when he noticed his wand was out without his knowing. Tom twirled it lazily in his hand and watched him appraisingly for a while then turned to watch his wand.

"Yes," he finally purred, just when Renatus was starting to get nervous. "You have proven yourself more than anyone else, Renatus. However, whoever is to be my consort will have to be much stronger than the average person and be able to keep up with me. Do you think you can do that?"

"Oh, yes, my Lord!" Renatus said immediately, his hope rising.

Tom chuckled lowly and gave him a sweeping glance before he went back to watching his wand. "We shall see," he said. "I think it time you returned to the dungeons; it is already nine."

"But, my Lord—"

"Do not question me, Renatus," Tom interrupted, his voice barely above a whisper but deadly and sharp enough to cut through steel.

Renatus swallowed his words and bowed before him. "Good night, my Lord."

"And tell our _dear_ Head Girl her friends better have vacated the common room before I come to check, or they will all be assigned detention with Pringle," Tom added.

Renatus nodded, opened the door, and left the room.

**000**

He was excited for their meeting. He tried not to be, but Tom could not help it. He had not seen much of Black since the twenty-eighth of September. He had seen him in classes, during meals, and a few glimpses in the halls but that had been it. He did not know why seeing Black to work on their project was making him so excited.

When he got to the library, Black was already there and waiting for him at their usual table in the front.

"Good afternoon, Black," Tom greeted as he took his spot facing the entrance to the library.

"Riddle," Black replied absently.

Tom slid the book Black had let him borrow across the table. Black took it silently and put it in his bag. Tom paused to study his odd conduct. Black looked paler than usual and his eyes weren't the ordinarily vibrant green that Tom frequently admired. Instead they were dull and almost empty. He still looked gorgeous but there was such a difference that anyone would be hyperaware of it.

Tom chose to ignore it for the moment and opened his bag to get out their work. "I believe we are ready to start making the potion today. I have already spoken with Professor Slughorn about using the lab."

His partner consented and picked up the parchment Tom had drawn the rune design on and pointed to the runes on the outer circle. "I think it would be best to do these on the full moon."

Tom nodded in understanding. "Ah, for maximum protection."

"Yes," Black said as he stood up and gathered the parchments. "Shall we, then?"

Tom also stood up and preceded Black to the entrance and led the way to the dungeons. Some of the ingredients they would need in their potion was in the storage room but they would have to gather the rest themselves or order them. Black had said he would take care of that and would be in charge of adding them during the right times in the days before the full moon.

They reached the potions lab without incident and Tom went in with Black trailing behind him. He went to a table in the back where a cauldron was already set up for them with their required ingredients right next to it. He would have to thank Slughorn for that later on.

Putting his bag on the floor, Tom stepped over to the cauldron and turned on the fire. "You can prepare the ingredients. I will take care of the potion."

Black did so without saying anything and, once again, Tom wondered why he was being so unresponsive. It was frustrating, really. During their project time, they forgot everything else that happened outside it. They weren't Slytherins who had to watch what they said around one another, he wasn't the leader who had to concentrate on making sure his minions were in order, and Black wasn't the transfer student who had to forge a path for himself in new territory.

He wanted that back and Black was making it difficult with whatever was agitating him.

For the next hour, however, they worked in relative silence except for the occasional instruction from Tom. Black prepared the ingredients, passed it to him, and dropped it in whenever Tom told him to while Tom stirred. They went at a steady pace until their potion simmered.

At that point, Tom turned off the fire to wait for it to cool down then said to Black, "I trust you will add all that is needed for the next week."

Black didn't even rise at the questionable doubt to his competence. "I will be sure to do that," was all he said.

Hiding his dissatisfaction at this behavior, Tom proceeded to withdraw his wand and put the potion in a stasis. Black cleaned up and put away the extra ingredients. While Black was in the storage room, Tom got out their work journal and wrote down what they had done for today.

Tom barely kept his hand from jerking in surprise when a loud crash issued from the storage room.

"Shit!"

He went to the storage room to see what had Black cursing for the first time he had heard. Looking into the room, he saw Black standing around four broken jars of newts eyes and dragon eggshells with his hands clutching his head.

"Black? Are you all right?" Tom asked as he stepped into the room. He swept his wand at the mess and repaired the jars and put the ingredients back in them.

By the time he was done and glanced back at Black, the boy was calmly fixing his bangs over his forehead.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you," Black said.

Tom eyed him for a moment. "What is wrong with you? You have been agitated since we were in the library."

Black waved a dismissive hand. "It is nothing."

"It most certainly is when something like this happens," Tom said, gesturing to the shelf where the previously broken jars were now sitting. "You have been very quiet and your usual zeal for working on our project seems to have evaporated."

Black sighed heavily and moved back to the lab, saying, "If you must know, then come."

Tom followed him out in disbelief. He hadn't been expecting Black to actually tell him. He was even more surprised that he actually wanted to know. He never cared about what was bothering other people, least of all someone he'd only known for a month.

They went back to their table where the journal was still open to the page Tom had been writing on. With an easy flick of his wand, Black conjured two tall stools for them to sit on. Tom sat down after the pureblood teen and waited for him to start talking.

"I hate Halloween."

The statement threw Tom off but he refrained from banally asking "What?" He tried to assimilate what Black had said but he couldn't find any hidden meaning behind the words.

"You hate Halloween," Tom repeated.

"Yep," Black said in an uncharacteristically nonchalant way. Not that Tom could figure out his true persona yet anyway. "Absolutely despise it."

Tom kept himself from rolling his eyes and decided to indulge him if he wasn't going to be serious. He shouldn't have expected Black to tell him anything. "Why do you hate Halloween?"

"Something bad always happens to me on Halloween." Black's lime green eyes focused on him as he said this.

Tom didn't know what to say to that so he stayed silent. There was a sudden change in the mood and he was very aware of it. This felt like an important moment. He didn't know why, but everything in him was telling him it was.

"I can feel it. Something's going to happen even now," Black said, his soft voice becoming even softer.

His eyes were still on Tom and they were intense but he couldn't look away. He believed Black but, for the life of him, Tom couldn't understand why. And he had this potent urge to touch him. It came out of nowhere but it wouldn't leave him now that they were staring unflinchingly at each other.

What was going on? Why had the atmosphere changed so unexpectedly? Even the thought of the change was fleeting now.

Tom's hand started moving of its own accord before he could even register it. He reached to touch Hadrian's cheek and the boy did nothing to stop him and was, in fact, leaning forward.

_Hadrian is it now? _The insufferable voice sounded amused.

Tom froze in action, snapping out of whatever daze he had been in. Hadrian blinked as well and leaned away, eyes widening slightly.

_Black; his name is Black. _Tom corrected himself but it was too late. He just couldn't reconcile himself with that informal name now that something so profound he didn't even know why it was so had happened between them.

"I…" Black—Hadrian faltered, then cleared his throat faintly and tried again, "I think that is enough for today. I have much to work on."

Tom was inclined to empathize with his need to leave and quickly get out of here. He was out of his depth and it seemed he wasn't the only one.

"Yes," Tom agreed, though he didn't have any work. He always finished his weekend homework on Fridays.

"I will bring all the additional ingredients tomorrow, then," said Hadrian as he picked his bag up off the floor.

"All right."

"Until tomorrow."

Before Tom could say his farewell, Hadrian was already moving to the door with a subtle speed that he suspected the Shadows had a hand in. As soon as he left, Tom felt his heartbeat slow down significantly, though he hadn't been aware of it racing.

_What's come over me?_

**000**

_What the fuck was that, Hadrian? _Hadrian scolded himself as he entered the Room of Requirement after escaping the potion's lab.

His heart was hammering in his chest and he couldn't get the thought of what Tom's—**RIDDLE'S—**hand would have felt like on his cheek had he not stopped. Would it have been as cold as he portrayed himself to be?

"Stop! I _don't _want to know!"

_Of course you do, _the voice taunted. _Why else did you want to confide in him what was bothering you?_

He didn't know why he had wanted to confide in him. He certainly hadn't planned on it. But the words had started forming before he could even think them. It had felt as if something had been moving his mouth for him.

Hadrian didn't answer the voice (as he had taken to doing so) and turned to calming down his heart and thoughts. He couldn't even think of Tom as Riddle any more. It was so unnerving. He couldn't be warming up to Lord-fucking-Voldemort.

_Must I tell you every time? He isn't Voldemort._

He knew just what to do to forget about the Slytherin heir. He thought of what he wanted and the room immediately provided him with a couple of golems. Playing with his Shadows always served to soothe him. Slowly, they leaked out of him and filled the room, basking everything in an eerie darkness.

He was in his element and there was no Tom Riddle to make him uneasy.

**000**

It had been a truly awkward weekend for Hadrian. Neither he nor Tom had forgotten what had happened on Saturday and their meeting on Sunday had been spent solely focusing on their project. Today had been just as bad since they had every class together.

They hadn't diverted to talking about other interesting magical things when something in their project reminded them of it. They hadn't exchanged ideas as much as they had used to, only going with the first good one that came up so they could leave quickly.

Hadrian hadn't ever felt these emotions and he was sure Tom had never experienced anything as close either. He didn't like it, especially when he had no clue what they were or where they came from, much less why they were directed at his ex-rival.

He couldn't stand all this new tension when he had considered Tom as escape. He had kept him happy most when their feelings had been impartial and centered around challenging each other. Dammit, this was Voldemort, he wasn't supposed to be confused about his feelings towards him!

At least he still had Quidditch. They had practice later on and he was looking forward to it. Even if Anastius worked them like dogs, Hadrian enjoyed it and it worked to release some of his stress and the foreboding feeling he had the closer it got to Halloween. Even in this world, the curse of Halloween wouldn't leave him alone. His stupid scar was acting up as well and it usually had nothing to do with Tom.

Currently, he was looking for Cassius, whom the map had pinpointed at the library. If anything could loosen him up, it was going to be sex. Hadrian supposed he should feel bad for wanting to use Cassius this way after ignoring him for so long but he really couldn't bring himself to care. He had never said he was perfect and he had been doing this for far longer than he'd known the Ravenclaw.

As he entered the library, Hadrian immediately spotted Cassius with the other three he had seen him with the first day of Quidditch practice. He stepped in and made his way over to them. It didn't take long for Cassius to notice him, especially since he was facing the entrance. Before Hadrian could get to their table, Cassius stood up to meet him halfway there.

"Hadrian, hello," he greeted in a mildly surprised tone.

Hadrian smiled at him charmingly. "Hello, Cassius. I wonder if I could borrow you for a moment," he said, slightly echoing the midnight blue-eyed boy.

Cassius's eyes lit up and he returned his smile. "Certainly."

For a second, Hadrian thought it was wrong of him to play with the boy's emotions like this. Cassius was a lot more devoted to him than he had first imagined. But he quickly banished that thought, chalking it up to the inexperienced Hadrian in him. This is how relationships worked as far as he was concerned. No attachments, no commitments, and no pain. _On my part_ was left out.

He led Cassius out of the library and about two corridors away until they were in an alcove with no one in sight. Hadrian leaned casually on the wall and faced Cassius, who was gazing at him keenly.

"How are you?" Hadrian asked after a moment.

"I'm good. And you?"

"I'm also well. I'm sorry for neglecting you but I have found that it is much harder to settle into Hogwarts after the initial week or two," Hadrian said as he moved closer to the taller boy.

Cassius's dark eyes were watching his every move and he couldn't seem to take them off him. "It is all right. I understand."

"Do you?" Hadrian whispered, moving even closer and invading his personal space enough to touch chests. "It was most awful on my part. I would like to make it up to you."

"What did you have in mind?" Cassius asked breathlessly, his eyes now on the hand that was moving toward his narrow hips.

Hadrian smiled up at him and trailed his right hand from Cassius's chest to the hollow in his hip that he knew drove the Zabini heir mad and brought his left hand up to play with the hair at the base of his neck. "I was thinking," he said slowly, the words and his leisurely movements working together, "tomm—"

"Hadrian! There you are! I've been looking all over for you!"

Hadrian stopped his actions and felt Cassius tense and freeze against him. Turning so he could chew out the idiot who had ruined his moment, Hadrian saw Alphard standing there staring at the scene in horror. With a sigh, Hadrian withdrew his hands and stepped away from the other boy.

"Alphard," he addressed indifferently.

His cousin, like Cassius, seemed to be frozen as he looked between them with some emotion Hadrian couldn't identify in his stormy gray eyes. Cassius recovered first, straightening up to his full height and putting on his mask as he too turned to Alphard.

"Hello, Alphard," he greeted perfunctorily.

Alphard didn't reply to either of them, watching them both silently. Gradually, his face became blank and he lost his look of horror. For a moment, he seemed to pull himself back together.

Finally, he nodded at Cassius, then said to Hadrian, "The wedding cards have arrived and it is our job to distribute them."

"All right. Are we to do that now?" Hadrian asked.

"Lucretia has said she would appreciate RSVPs at the earliest convenience," Alphard replied.

"In other words, she demands it by Friday."

Alphard grinned amusedly. "Precisely."

Hadrian gave a put-upon sigh. It seemed he would be deprived of sex for even longer. It would be truly surprising if he lasted all the way to Halloween. But he didn't want to know what his cousin would do to him when he didn't heed her demands. Lucretia was insane in that controlling way and he felt sorry for Ignatius Prewett. He would have to be a strong bloke to put up with her.

Hadrian's focus returned to his two companions and he noticed they were staring each other down. Cassius was a tad bit taller and looked like the typical Dark wizard but Alphard had this wild look going for him, like he wasn't afraid to do anything, especially with his long hair swept around him. Hadrian watched for a moment in amusement before he stepped up to Cassius and blocked his view of his cousin.

The Ravenclaw's glare left and he only seemed frustrated now. Hadrian thought he looked cute when he pouted that way. Nothing had been going the way he wanted, the poor guy.

Grabbing the front of his robes, Hadrian brought Cassius down a little to his eye level and carded his hands through the Zabini heir's thick, pitch-black hair. He thought he heard Alphard's choked gasp but it could have also been Cassius's sharp intake of breath.

"People seem to have a habit of ruining our fun. But do not worry," he purred, moving his fingers sensually through Cassius's hair, whose eyes were now clouded with lust, "we will finish this; no matter how long it takes. You believe me, _non_?"

Cassius nodded slowly. "Yes," he spoke gaspingly.

Hadrian definitely heard Alphard making sounds behind him now as he licked Cassius's bottom lip and proceeded to claim his mouth. The Ravenclaw's lips parted eagerly and accepted his tongue as Hadrian pushed it in and met with Cassius's wet one. They soon forgot that Alphard was standing not three feet away and their kiss deepened. Cassius moaned lowly and Hadrian wouldn't have been surprised if he had as well.

When Hadrian was in danger of becoming too aroused, he withdrew, much to both their dismay. Cassius's midnight blue eyes filled with warmth as they gazed into his own brilliant emeralds, just like they had the first time on Hadrian's bed. His eyes said a lot and Hadrian didn't think he was prepared for all that they conveyed. He sincerely hoped Cassius didn't try to complicate things with anything stronger than lust.

Alphard cleared his throat loudly in annoyance and effectively broke the moment. "Hadrian. Wedding cards."

Hadrian smiled at Cassius and leaned in to whisper into his ear, "_À tout à l'heure_."

The Zabini heir shuddered pleasurably at the breath on his ear and the beautiful, silky sound of Hadrian's French. Hadrian let him go and stepped away, looking to Alphard, only to see the gray-eyed teen gazing at him as if he had never seen him before. Hadrian smirked back and preceded him in the direction of the dungeons.

Alphard followed him in silence until they reached the staircase leading to the Entrance Hall. "I hadn't realized you were dating Cassius," he spoke, his voice possibly the lowest Hadrian had ever heard it.

Hadrian gave him a cursory glance before replying with a chuckle, "Dating has nothing to do with it."

He heard Alphard halt when they got to the foot of the stairs so he also stopped to face him. He hadn't expected his cousin to look upset, or for his eyes to display a profound sadness that shook him. Hadrian instinctively stepped closer to him in concern.

"So it isn't serious?" Alphard asked, his eyes piercing him.

"Not at all," Hadrian answered, wondering what Alphard was getting at.

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Alphard's entire demeanor changed and his usual attitude came back like a light switch. He grinned widely at him and instantly dropped the topic with an easy, "Okay."

Hadrian raised a brow at his odd behavior but got no explanation for it. Instead, Alphard strode up to him and pushed him toward the staircase to the dungeons.

"Do you have something against Cassius?" Hadrian asked as they climbed down the stairs.

"No," was all Alphard said.

Hadrian rolled his eyes and knew his cousin would not expound on that so he decided to drop the subject as well. Alphard quickly descended the rest of the steps and led the way toward the entrance to their common room and gave the password when they reached the wall.

The first thing Hadrian saw when he came in was a large open package on the table in the center of the furniture by the fireplace, surrounded by some people Orion and Cygnus were passing out cards to. He and Alphard joined them and Hadrian looked inside the package to see a lot of the cards left.

"It goes by last names and we've rearranged them by House so you don't have to keep going back and forth," Orion provided. "The first ones will be in Slytherin, then Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor."

"We can take a handful each and split up," Alphard suggested as he reached in to grab the second stack, which was full.

Hadrian took the third stack and decided to get this over with quickly before dinner. His stack started with the Ns from Slytherin. With a sigh, he set out to find whoever Aldonza Navarro was.

The cards were being passed out only to students from the most influential families and there were a lot of Slytherins included. Most of them were in the common room when he gave them their card. He had to get the Marauder's Map to find the rest of them. He Stalked to the Astronomy Tower to track down Rosalina Parkinson and was quite amused after finding her snogging Harlan Burke there. He didn't know any other people who did that before the sun even set.

Hadrian had just given Elliot Rackharrow his invitation when he came upon Tom's. Surprised to discover that Tom had actually gotten his own card, he stopped to stare at the fancy penmanship for a second. Then he remembered that Lucretia had only graduated two years ago and that Tom still most likely ruled the Slytherins in his fifth year. Not to mention, _Heir of Slytherin_ was written right below his full name.

Checking his map, Hadrian saw that Tom was in the Head Dorm courting a few of his Death Eater friends, Lestrange, Rosier, Dolohov, and Mulciber. At least he could give Rosier his card at the same time. As he had only just entered from the door to the courtyard, he Stalked to the fifth floor.

Wishing he could enter without being questioned, he told the portrait guarding the entrance to give Tom a message. It wasn't long before Tom answered his summons, stepping out into the hallway and letting the door close behind him.

"Black." Tom didn't seemed surprised that he knew where his dorm was without someone escorting him. Hadrian hadn't expected him to be and would have been deeply disappointed in him had he been.

"Hello, Riddle," Hadrian greeted as he held out the two cards. "Lucretia has sent her wedding cards and has ordered that her unfortunate brother and cousins pass them out. I am here to deliver yours and Rosier's."

Tom took the invitations and glanced at his before looking away in frustration. "Thank you. I will be sure to give Devan his."

Hadrian raised a brow at the boy's irritation. "You do not seem overly enthusiastic to receive this," he observed.

"It's always the same. I receive these but am unable to go," Tom replied.

Hadrian didn't have to ask why that was, he already suspected the reason. Dumbledore had told him he had been extra suspicious of Tom ever since Myrtle's death so he probably watched his every move. Besides, he doubted Tom trusted him enough yet to tell him.

He could certainly sympathize. He knew how it felt to have Dumbledore tell him he couldn't go somewhere (albeit for his own _safety_) and watch him like a hawk. Especially during the war when the Order thought he hadn't been ready to join them fight battles. He had eventually sneaked out and ended up making them eat their own words. That had felt damn good.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Hadrian said, surprised to realize that he actually was. "It's best to keep it, however; one never knows what might happen."

The portrait door opened just as the words left his lips and Lestrange's voice came through as he stepped out, "Tom? You've been out here for an awfully long time. Who's there?"

Tom glanced over his shoulder and Hadrian could have sworn his eyes turned red for a moment. His voice was low and cold when he spoke, "Get back inside, Renatus. I will deal with you when I am finished here."

Lestrange's eyes flicked over to him and Hadrian smirked at the look on his face. "Yes, Tom. I apologize for interrupting you," he said, his eyes completely avoiding Tom's as he went back inside.

When Tom turned back around, Hadrian's smirk turned on him. "Tut, tut. Looks like your faithful dog has more training to get through. I hear giving them biscuits works," he said, then turned around and walked down the corridor that led to the staircase.

He definitely heard Tom's rich laughter right as he turned the corner, and he imagined their previous awkwardness around each other fading.

**000**

Wednesday, Hadrian was unable to sleep. Until three in the morning all he could do was toss and turn in bed. There was that foreboding feeling again and it was driving him insane. Finally, he decided he'd had enough and got up with a frustrated sigh.

Quidditch didn't seem to be doing much for him if this was continuing. They'd even had practice earlier because Wednesday was the full moon and he'd asked Anastius to reschedule since he would be working on his project. Flying had never failed to calm his nerves. Maybe he just needed a different type of flying.

He hadn't turned into his Animagus form since coming here and it was about time he did. After putting on casual robes, Hadrian silently left his dorm. Once in the hallway, he Shadow Stalked to an empty clearing in the Forbidden Forest that he had always loved to transform in since no one knew he was an Animagus.

Outside was chilly and a blanket of darkness that would have creeped him out had he not been a Dark creature hung over the forest. It was completely quiet but for the howling of the wind and the occasional sound from the nocturnal animals. He hoped the sky would be as clear as it was now tonight when he and Tom had to come out here and create their compass under the full moon.

Hadrian put that all out of his mind as he closed his eyes and breathed in. He thought about his form and prepared himself for the transformation.

Darkness. Master of the Shadows and the unseen. Wings that were more powerful than almost anything else despite their skeletal appearance. Usually hollowed eyes became bright gems. And a bolt of lightning that brought to life the picture of death.

He knew something was wrong the instant his image slipped. His next clue was the searing pain in his back. He hastily put up a wide range Silencing Charm before he fell to his knees and a scream erupted from his throat. He was changing and he couldn't stop it and by Merlin did it hurt almost as bad as the ritual he performed to get here.

His face elongated and his mouth widened, making way for sharp teeth to grow. A long tongue came with it and his nostrils expanded, every smell invading his senses. His body shifted, becoming long, slender, and snake-like, except with fur _and _scales. Two enormous wings that looked like dragon wings extended out of him. They were the most painful addition yet.

When the pain finally stopped, he could not move, could not even register what he had become. He lay there panting and wondering why the heck he had not turned into a thestral. Then it occurred to him that since he really wasn't one being any more, the thestral could not fit both Harry Potter and Hadrian Black's personas. How stupid could he get? Why hadn't he thought of that? Of course, the old Hadrian wouldn't have even one quality that would fit the form of a thestral and he hadn't been a Shadow Lord.

Hadrian got up off the ground and slipped slightly in his new, unfamiliar form. He studied himself to determine what creature he had become. It didn't take him long to identify himself as a Drake. He was a perfect blend of pitch black and dark blue. His scales, however, were a beautiful gold. He didn't need to look at himself to know that his eyes were the same bright green.

Experimentally, he tried to bat his wings but all they did was twitch slightly. This would need some getting used to and he knew hardly anything about Drakes. All he knew was that they were a mix of dragons and wyverns and that they blew out blue flames. He didn't even know what breed he was.

He might be in need of a good fly, but he wasn't so dense as to explore with a form he knew nothing about. He concentrated on shifting back and thought some reading and researching would help to calm his nerves. The return to his normal form was almost as painful as the transformation had been.

He was still apprehensive so there was definitely something other than this waiting for him.

**000**

When Tom got to the Entrance Hall, Hadrian wasn't there as he had expected him to be. He briefly wondered why but banished the thought as he headed to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Hadrian was already sitting at the Slytherin table with a couple of books surrounding him when Tom entered. He was across from him today, in Antonin's spot. Tom went over and sat down, looking over the books. They were about magical creatures, dragons and wyverns to be exact. Certain that Hadrian didn't take Care of Magical Creatures, he speculated as to why the boy was researching them.

"Good morning, Black," Tom greeted, wondering how long the boy had been awake and why he was so early.

"Good morning, Riddle," Hadrian returned absentmindedly.

"You seem very engrossed in that," Tom said, pouring himself some hot tea. "Do you have a particular interest in dragons?"

Hadrian shook his head and he glanced up from the book as he said, "No. I'm researching Drakes. It recently came to my attention that I know almost next to nothing about them."

And this was why Hadrian Black held his fascination beyond his Shadow secrets and mysterious knowledge of the school's interior. He had never met a pureblood who didn't take the magic they grew up with for granted. Hadrian made sure that he knew everything there was to know and went and learned it when he didn't.

Tom loved their discussions on theories and different magic whenever they had time to spare after working on their project. Sometimes he wished there had been someone like Hadrian around from the beginning.

"I find that it helps to look for them in books about extinct magical creatures," offered Tom, who had had his own bit of interest in them a while back.

"But they are not extinct."

"No one knows for sure. I doubt that they are, but many people believe so. One hasn't been seen in years, after all," Tom replied matter-of-factly. "Are you so sure they aren't?"

Hadrian didn't answer his question and said, "All right, then, I will see what I can find there. Thank you."

Tom nodded in return just as other students arrived for breakfast. Antonin was much cooler about having his seat taken when he came. All he did was take Devan's, who ended up sitting across from Jezebel. Why couldn't Renatus be as reasonable and not come whining to him later on? He supposed that was what he had to endure for keeping around someone as loyal as Renatus.

The morning owls came and delivered to certain people the morning edition of the _Daily Prophet_. Tom didn't bother to subscribe to that rubbish paper but sometimes he checked for what Grindelwald was doing at the moment. He looked over to Abraxas's paper and wasn't disappointed. Grindelwald's actions were on the front page today.

_**GRINDELWALD ATTACKS THE FRENCH CAPITAL!**_

**FORTY-FIVE MUGGLES AND NINETEEN WIZARDS KILLED DURING A RAID ON PARIS'S 13****th**** ARRONDISSEMENT, GOBELINS**

"Hadrian, you have to see the paper today," Alphard said from his cousin's right.

Hadrian was too engrossed in his book and waved Alphard off. "I don't read that nonsense."

Alphard, instead of trying to reason with him, shoved the paper in his face. The whole table was watching as Hadrian took the paper and started reading it over. The only thing that betrayed his feelings on the matter was the slight widening of his eyes.

"You have nothing to worry about, Hadrian," Abraxas assured. "The Dark Lord wouldn't attack the home of a Black and a Malfoy. Besides, you live in Panthéon."

"You do realize that is one arrondissement away, don't you? He was heading straight for the 5th and was stopped. What would he want Gobelins for when almost all of the magical population in Paris lives in the Latin Quarter?" Hadrian said, his knuckles white as he clutched the paper tightly.

When no one said anything, Hadrian calmly closed the paper and gave it back to Alphard, but Tom could see the fire in his eyes. He was filled with rage and Tom knew he wouldn't be at ease today. Everyone eventually went back to eating but Tom watched the boy across from him and was probably the only one to hear what he muttered.

"Forget Dumbledore, anything happens to mother and father and _I_ will be the one to get rid of this so-called Dark Lord."

An unknown chill went through him at the words and though Tom thought he sounded extremely confident of this—like it was something he did all the time, defeating Dark Lords—he found himself believing that Hadrian was capable of doing so.

And, Merlin, did that excite him like nothing else.

**000**

At eight, Tom and Hadrian met in the Entrance Hall with their finished potion in a vial, their diagrams, and their notes.

"I know the perfect spot to do this," Tom said and proceeded to lead the way outside.

Hadrian followed until they got to the edge of the lake, on the other side from the gates where they could see the Forbidden Forest to their left. He could understand why Tom wanted to do it here. The full moon was clearly visible and the soil wasn't too hard for the rune they would be drawing on it.

"You can put up the wards while I draw the rune," Tom suggested as he got out his wand and cleared an out-of-the-way area.

Hadrian watched him start to draw the pentagram before he focused on putting up the wards to keep away others while they did this. After the last ward, which would make anything they did here unnoticeable, he turned to look at Tom's progress. Tom was just finishing up making the outer circle deeper so they could pour the potion into it.

Once he was done, Tom stepped back and inspected his work for any mistakes. Finding none, of course, he took his position at the top point—which was facing north—while Hadrian took out the potion and uncorked it. He would need to do this part since he was trained in warding with the full moon out. The potion needed to be poured into the outer circle and warded at the same time so when their compass was created it would already be imbibed with wards. Additional and stronger wards would be added later but doing this made it that much harder for someone who wasn't a Ward Mage.

"Ready?" Tom asked from his position, his wand already waiting.

Hadrian took his position at the center of the point between the one Tom stood at and the one to his left. He nodded to Tom that he was ready and his partner waved his wand to activate the rune. At the same time as the rune glowed a golden color, both Tom and Hadrian moved.

Tom continued to wave his wand and concentrate on putting power into the rune as he took a step back to the inner circle. Hadrian moved two steps back into the outer circle and started walking backward, pouring the potion into each deep crevice of the circle he moved away from. He also had his wand out and put up the wards.

The potion that had originally been a dark red was now becoming lighter the closer they got to making it around the whole circle. Tom got done with his smaller circle first and immediately began to trace the pentagram. By the time Hadrian had made it around the whole outer circle and the potion had become pure silver, Tom was in the center circle that was inside the pentagram and was drawing in the runes that would actually make their compass into one that could scry.

Hadrian stepped away from the rune and waited for Tom to finish up so he could add in the charms and transfigurations they had layered together for their compass to turn out exactly as they had designed it. The rune would only create something that would be able to scry but, unless they specified it during the creation process, there wouldn't be a definite shape or design.

Tom stepped away from his work and nodded his head at Hadrian. Tom activated the runes just as Hadrian began to picture their compass in detail and began putting in their spells. They hadn't made incantations for any of their spells since neither of them needed them. It was enough for them to picture what the magic would do to make it work.

It was a good thing there were wards up to make everything unnoticeable because the whole area was alight in a silver glow as the magic came alive. Tom stood there and watched the magnificence of it all. He couldn't take his eyes off the picture Hadrian presented—eyes closed, long hair blowing from the combined force of the wind and magic, and his wand waving beautifully, as if he were conducting a symphony.

The glow finally dispersed then completely left and both Hadrian and Tom turned to look at the center of the pentagram. They were filled with pride at the sight of their perfect compass lying in the middle. It was round and golden with black runes engraved around the inner circle. Both ends of the compass had two light green gems and a chain was connected to one end.

Tom bent down to pick it up and Hadrian came over to look at it more closely. The small center circle of the compass had a pentagram with the cardinal directions outside the star and in the circle. The tip of the pentagram was pointing to north. The outer circle of the compass, much like in their rune design, was a crevice.

"Looks somewhat like a time turner," Hadrian commented.

Tom wondered when he had come across a time turner as they were hard to come by but decided not to ask. "Shall we see if it works, then?"

"Go ahead."

Tom pointed the tip of his wand at it and traced the crevice with it. He thought of what he wanted to find and watched as the runes came to life and glowed faintly. The pentagram spun from where it was pointing north to east. The pentagram itself flashed a silver glow until he started moving in that direction. They went all the way to the edge of the forest and stopped when the pentagram stopped flashing and stayed a solid silver.

"I wanted the Forbidden Forest," Tom explained. "I believe it works. We'd have to try it out more extensively tomorrow."

"Say we manufactured and sold this, it would be rather hard to understand for the people who didn't create it," said Hadrian. "You and I know what the flashing means but who's to say someone else will?"

Tom didn't care if some dunderhead couldn't understand that a flashing silver meant "keep going" and a solid silver meant that the destination had been reached. "It will come with a manual," he said dryly, surprising a laugh out of his partner.

"It would be much better if it could take you to your target place—like a portkey," Hadrian continued.

"That would require a lot of work to make it so the magic of the scrying did not interfere with the magic of something like a portkey," Tom said, thinking that when Hadrian got passionate about something, he went out on a limb and didn't seem to let the laws of magic stop him.

"You don't think we can do it?" Hadrian asked challengingly.

Tom's eyebrow raised. "Did you conveniently forget we had a plan to make it so the compass can find Unplottable locations?"

"No, but I think we would need another rune circle for that and the best time would be during the full moon. The next full moon is November 12th. We have plenty of time," Hadrian reasoned.

Tom didn't think about it for long. He loved a challenge and it sounded appealing. He and Hadrian made a good team anyway. "All right, we'll see what we can do."

Hadrian's smile was stunning, especially when directed at him. Tom was glad that he was in a better mood than he had been all day after reading the _Daily Prophet_. He had been sure Hadrian had employed his Shadows because it had been too much of a coincidence that everyone steered clear of him the whole day—even Alphard, who usually clung to him.

They cleaned up and dismantled their wards after getting back to their work area. Tom kept the compass just as he kept all the other information since he lived alone and had more privacy. They still had to work on warding the compass completely so they went back inside the school.

"The library is closed by now," Tom said, leading them up the flight of stairs. "We will finish up in the Room of Requirement."

"The Room of Requirement?"

Tom smirked at his act. He would bet his wand that Hadrian knew exactly what the Room of Requirement was, just as he seemed to know this whole school so well. But he indulged him anyway, "It is a room which can only be discovered by someone who is in need and can provide whatever that person needs."

"What a fascinating room," said Hadrian. "Beauxbatons doesn't have anything like that."

"Of course it doesn't; as if Beauxbatons can compare to Hogwarts," Tom replied.

"It certainly cannot," Hadrian said, surprising Tom as he had not expected him to like his new school over the one he had gone to for six years.

When they arrived at the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy on the seventh floor, Tom walked past the blank wall across the corridor from it three times, concentrating on what he needed. He opened the door that materialized and they both stepped in to a study much like the Slytherin common room. There was a circle of chairs around a table in front of a fireplace.

Both of them ended up sitting on the long couch but they didn't bother to move apart. Tom placed the compass on the table. Hadrian started warding first and then Tom joined in. They made the compass able to tune to the owner's magical signature, unbreakable, undetectable, and much more.

They didn't make the wards impossible to break, only for the average wizard, or anyone who did not have knowledge about wards. Hadrian kept in mind that Abraxas had studied with him and made it so even he wouldn't be able to get past their wards. Once they were done, they both ran some tests on it with spells they suspected their classmates would try.

"They will not have a chance," Tom said confidently after none of their spells worked.

Hadrian smiled at him. "You are right. We are done with the project we will be handing in, then?"

"Yes. All that is left are your ambitious suggestions," Tom said, finding himself returning the smile.

"Well, I certainly don't see you complaining," Hadrian returned as he stood up and stretched. He was in a playful mood thanks to Tom and so spontaneously asked, "Care for a duel?"

Tom turned from watching Hadrian's lean form stretching like a cat and snapped to attention at the question. "You wish to duel?" he asked.

Hadrian's bright eyes fell on him and they were sparkling with challenge. "Yes."

Tom smirked and got up from his seat. He wasted no time in asking the room for a dueling arena. This would be interesting. He would finally see what Hadrian was capable of. And he had no doubt that he would win this. The room provided them with a large dueling stand and barriers that circled the whole area to keep stray spells from hitting the stands, though there was no audience.

"After you," Tom said, sweeping his hand invitingly toward the stand, smirk still on his face.

Hadrian smirked back at him, amused that Tom was so confident he would win already. He took the left end of the stand and Tom took the other. They bowed to one another then started to walk towards each other to the center of the stand. They faced away—back-to-back—wands at the ready, and then walked three equal steps forward.

On their third step they quickly turned around, fired a spell, and dodged at the same time. Both their spells missed its target but they did not let that stop them. Tom threw up a shield and shot another spell in quick succession. Hadrian wrapped the Shadows around himself to make his movements completely silent and shot back an _Expelliarmus_.

Neither of them relied on incantations or juvenile spells like _Rictusempra_. Most of their spells were injurious and sometimes much more advanced than something a seventh year should know. Tom's were usually very Dark and Hadrian's were ones he would normally use on Death Eaters and Voldemort himself.

Their movements were fluid, quick, and would inspire awe in anyone who watched them right now. These were two very skilled duelers and it could be seen in each move they made. When they got especially close to each other, they used weapons to try to disarm their opponent. Hadrian had been pleasantly surprised to learn that Tom was no slouch when it came to sword fighting and wondered why he had never seen Voldemort ever use it (though he was such a formidable dueler that he hardly needed to get that close to defeat his opponent).

The first hit had been after Tom attempted to use Legilimens on him but had found Hadrian's walls tight and in place and Hadrian had used the opportunity to wandlessly send a Blasting Curse his way. Tom barely erected a shield but some of the spell got through and hit him on the right shoulder, cutting it slightly open. Hadrian saw the moment Tom took him more seriously when his eyes flashed red for a second and his face contorted with rage.

"_Oh,_" he chuckled sinisterly while dodging another spell. "You will pay for that one."

All Hadrian could do was grin and ready himself for the wonderful adrenaline rush.

But an hour or so and a long duel later, they came to a standoff with both their weapons aimed at the other's jugular. They circled around each other, neither willing to give in and both trying to see a way out of it.

"I'd say this is a draw. What do you think, Tom?" The name left his lips before Hadrian was even aware of it. He was still high on the duel and was so used to taunting Voldemort with the name.

Tom didn't seem to notice much aside from the twitching of his lips. He stopped but did not remove his wand. "I do believe you are correct, Hadrian," he drawled.

Hadrian couldn't get his mind off the image Tom presented: skin flushed, jaws set firmly, eyes glimmering with energy. The way his name rolled off Tom's tongue went straight to his groin and aroused him even more than he had already been.

Tom himself had his own problem. He had blanked out at actually drawing with someone but it had been an ephemeral moment. Then he had noticed that Hadrian looked positively delicious standing there, his hair looking windswept and his usually pale face colored.

_What are you thinking?_

Hadrian and Tom slowly moved their wands away at the same time and stepped back from the other. They continued to stare without their realizing, their eyes taking in everything the other had to offer during their moment of lost composure. Hadrian could feel his heart pounding in his chest but whether that was because of the duel or Tom he did not know.

_Definitely Tom,_ the voice answered for him, its tone gleeful.

Hadrian wondered what time it was and the room immediately provided him with a large clock. It was almost midnight. Time had just flown and he hadn't realized that almost four hours had passed with Tom. He also had Astronomy at midnight on Wednesdays.

"It's about time that I left," Hadrian cut through the silence. "I have a class at midnight."

Tom glanced at the clock. "Yes, you're right. We've been here long enough. You may go ahead if you are in a hurry."

Hadrian thought that was mighty generous of him but didn't protest. "Thank you. Good night."

As Hadrian headed to the door Tom said, "I will be expecting a rematch from you."

"I'm looking forward to it," Hadrian replied.

A while after he left, Tom was still standing there. Hadrian was even better than he'd assumed. He had actually _tied_ with him. And he suspected he hadn't been using all his tricks, though even Tom had held back. He didn't want to give away all his secrets to someone he didn't trust just yet. No matter, he wouldn't settle for a tie. He was sure he could win without showing all his cards.

Either way, Tom had never been more thankful that he was a wizard and that he had to wear robes because he had a most insistent erection.

**000**

Hadrian had expected a letter from home after Grindelwald's attack but didn't get one until the day before Halloween.

He had been restless the entire time. He anticipated something _more_ was waiting for him on that cursed day and the worry for his parents did not help to ease his nerves one bit. The only thing that provided him with an outlet was his duels with Tom. Whenever they had time to spare after working on their project, they spent it challenging each other.

Most of the time they tied, but sometimes he won and sometimes Tom won. He realized Tom was a wonderful duelist when he wasn't insane like Voldemort. He also learned that the old Hadrian hadn't been too bad either since Harry had never fought with swords and Hadrian was a natural.

Though Hadrian was utterly confused about his feelings for Tom, he was thankful the boy was there to distract him. He knew nothing had happened to his parents, but he really didn't like the feeling he got and it would help if he had some kind of reassurance. It didn't help that his scar was acting up as well.

He had gotten the letter during dinner on the thirtieth and he thought he would have died from relief after his mother had told him that they hadn't been in the country the whole month. She didn't say where they were but he didn't let that bother him. He was just glad the apprehension he had felt had been proven wrong, though he couldn't relax until it left and Halloween passed.

He had also come to the conclusion that he really didn't care if his parents hid his heritage from him. James and Lily were dead and he had missed his chance to get to know them once again. He would have liked to but it was pointless to obsess over something he couldn't change. Adrianna and Regulus Black were the ones who had raised him, the ones he felt all this love for. Besides, he looked like both of them so he suspected they had magically adopted him, which would make him their son even in blood so that bit didn't matter all that much.

When Halloween finally came, Hadrian wasn't as relieved as he thought he would be. He was just tired and ready for whatever was about to come his way. He only hoped it wouldn't be too bad, like the things he had experienced in the old world.

The day started normally enough. In contrast to how he was feeling, the castle was buzzing with excitement, as it always did on this day. He went through the day with people enthusiastically wishing him a "Happy Halloween" and he returned it glumly. The only one to notice his mood was, shockingly, Tom, who gave him occasional looks whenever they saw one another. Hadrian remembered—none too fondly—that he had confided in him that he hated Halloween.

His scar ached throughout the day and only got worse the closer it got to the Halloween feast. When the feast started, he went up to the Great Hall with the rest of his House. Alphard's flagrant enthusiasm wasn't helping the dull pain that was slowly becoming a fire in his scar but Hadrian kept quiet and went with it.

They ran into the Gryffindors on their way to the hall but all they did was sneer and glare at each other. Hadrian spotted Sebastian and could not see his ever-present best friend so went over to ask him about it.

"Evening, Sebastian," he greeted, plastering on a smile.

"Hey, Hadrian! Happy Halloween!" Sebastian returned, grinning.

Merlin, if he heard that one more time…

"Happy Halloween. Where is Harrison?" Hadrian asked, keeping his face as neutral as possible.

Sebastian's grin became even wider and his eyes held an excited gleam. "It worked! I found the code in that book you gave me and we sent his parents a letter! They couldn't say no after that. Harrison used the headmaster's fireplace to go home yesterday."

"That's great, Sebastian. I'm glad it all worked out for him," said Hadrian. And he meant it; at least something good was coming out of this month.

"Yeah. It's all thanks to you," the sixth year said gratefully as they entered the Great Hall.

"Oh no. I'm sure you would have found it eventually," Hadrian said, though he doubted it very much. "Have a good dinner," he added as they went their separate ways.

Hadrian chose to sit at the very end, earning him looks from his Housemates. He couldn't stand to be in the center of all that excitement, however. Not to mention, he suspected he would have to leave before the feast ended as he was starting to get a fierce headache. This way he would be able to leave without anyone noticing with the help of his Shadows.

It wasn't long before Hadrian was proven right. Twenty minutes had not even passed before a pain he had used to associate with Voldemort's extreme anger overcame him. Without anyone noticing, he calmly put down his utensils and wrapped his own shadow around himself. Even Dumbledore would not be able to see through this invisibility trick.

He got out of his seat and went to the back wall, which wasn't far from him. Using the abundant shadows in the corner, he Stalked to the Slytherin common room. No one was there but that was all he could register before the pain took over and he fell to his knees, clutching his forehead.

He closed his eyes but did not see the darkness he had been expecting. He saw a clear image of the Great Hall, decorated lavishly in scarlet reds, forest green, black, gold, silver, white, and royal blue. The entire hall was decorated with small sparkling stars that snowed down but never touched the floor. The tables were round and draped with gossamer, with a vase that had crimson roses and a mask prodded on a stick as the centerpiece. There were students dressed in beautiful gowns and dress robes and had colorful, sometimes feathery, masks covering their eyes.

He opened his eyes in surprise but the image was still clearly imprinted in his mind and he realized it was the Masquerade Ball he had left back in the old world. Why was he seeing this? How was it possible that he was seeing this?

He closed his eyes again and now the image moved and he could hear sounds and Merlin did his head hurt! He moaned and gripped the closest thing to him, tightly squeezing his eyes shut.

_"Oh, the hall looks so beautiful!"_

_"I heard Professors McGonagall and Snape decorated it. Snape!"_

Hadrian felt the impending unconsciousness coming over him before it happened. He quickly but shakily got to his feet and felt his way over to the sofa, and summarily collapsed. He remembered to wrap the Shadows around himself as a way to ward people off in case he didn't wake up before his Housemates came back. Then he completely blanked out.

But it didn't last for long because in the next moment he was back to seeing the Great Hall. Now he was more aware of everything and could even pinpoint people he knew, even though they wore masks. Everyone looked wonderful and glamorous and he half-wished he had held off leaving until after the ball (definitely the Hadrian in him).

Hermione and Ron were just entering the doors with Ginny and Dean, Seamus and Lavender, and Neville and that girlfriend of his (he had never quite learned her name). Parvati looked even better than when he had taken her to the Yule Ball, though his eyes trailed over her date—Anthony Goldstein in Ravenclaw-blue dress robes and a bronze, silver-lined mask—even more.

"'Mione, have you seen Harry?" Ron asked as they headed over to an empty table by the windows.

Hermione's usually bushy hair reached the small of her back in beautiful waves and she had some of it in a messy bun on top. She had on a feathery scarlet mask, glittering with black. Her gown was a deep scarlet with a black bodice that really flattered her slim waist and her ample bust. Hadrian hadn't known she was hiding all that under her school uniform, and the last time he had seen that much of her, she had only been fifteen.

"No, actually. I haven't seen him since lunch," Hermione replied, her eyes scanning the hall. "I didn't even see him go to his room."

"Does anyone know who his date is?" Ron surprisingly pulled back Hermione's chair for her before he sat down.

Hadrian thought he looked quite dashing as well in an outfit that matched his date's and fit his tall frame perfectly. His robes were black, embroidered in scarlet and his mask, though not plain, was a much less decorative black one. It must have cost his family a lot (and to get Ginny something equally as nice) and Hadrian hoped they would be happy with what he left them and wouldn't worry about how it came to them.

"He wouldn't tell any of us, remember?" Seamus said with a roll of his eyes. "I don't get why he's being so secretive about it."

"Maybe they're just a little late," Neville put in.

The ball started not too soon after with classical music and elegant dancing that Hadrian really found to his taste. He spotted what was unmistakably a very gorgeous Draco wearing rich navy blue robes with silver detail that put everyone else's robes to shame. His mask was a small sterling silver carnival mask dotted with sapphire gems around the brow area.

His date, Blaise Zabini, had on what looked like Acromantula silk white robes that contrasted nicely against his dark skin with very dark violet designs on the hem and cuffs. His mask was also white and made his dark eyes pop out.

Draco looked content as they danced and Hadrian couldn't be happier for him. He supposed whatever Draco had with Blaise was more than just a friendship with benefits. Whatever it was, he had wished him good luck and had meant it.

Hadrian hadn't gotten much chance to study the whole hall before the image shifted on him. This time, he was shown a large room that looked to be in the dungeons. In fact, if he wasn't mistaken, it was the same room Alphard had shown him when he had asked why Tom hadn't shared a dorm with his year mates before he became Head Boy (after Cassius had said his current bed used to be empty he had planned on asking someone).

Now the artificial window was pouring in fake sunlight and he could make out two naked bodies covered by the silk green sheets on the king-sized bed in the center of the room. One body Hadrian could never forget and would be able to recognize in a room full of people he identified as Draco's. The chocolate coloring of the other gave himself away even before the blond woke up with a yawn and turned to smile slightly at his companion.

"Morning, Blaise," he said softly.

Blaise's eyes were already open and watching Draco warmly. "Good morning, Draco," he returned, his hand moving to smooth back Draco's hair.

If Hadrian had ever done that (not that he would have), Draco would have teased him for being maudlin but all he did was smile at Blaise. Hadrian was happy for him but he would rather be spared their affection-filled "morning after."

Blaise sat up on his right elbow and glanced over Draco's body. "What's that?" he asked.

Draco turned to where he was looking at the night table and leaned over to grab the very familiar letter. Hadrian recognized what it was when he saw the handwriting on the front with Draco's name on it.

"I don't know. Was it there last night?" Draco asked as he turned the letter over and broke the seal to open it.

Blaise smirked. "I wouldn't know. You were in such a rush to get to me."

"Oh, _I _was in a rush?" Draco returned with a chuckle. He took out the parchment inside and read it to himself as Blaise watched silently. "It's from Potter," he said at the end of it.

The playful air immediately left Blaise and a fierce, angry expression took over his handsome face. "What does he still want from you? I thought you said you ended it with the stupid Golden Boy. Were you lying to me?"

Draco didn't immediately tell him that the letter was a goodbye. Hadrian appreciated that he was still the same Draco he had come to know. He didn't take shit from anyone, even the boy he so obviously liked above others.

"Merlin, don't you dare start that crap with me again, Blaise!" Draco spat, glaring furiously at the Zabini heir. "Who I fucked before you got the fucking balls to tell me how you felt is none of your bleeding business!"

"Shit, Draco, do you have any idea how I feel knowing you actually let Potter—of all people—bugger you?" Blaise said.

Draco got out of the bed heatedly, not bothered at all that his stark naked form distracted Blaise (and Hadrian) for a moment. "How you feel?" he roared. "Thank you, mother, for letting me know your opinion! Fuck you, Blaise! I don't fucking need this shit from you! I'm not going to spend my time caressing your ego and trying to reassure you that there has never been a 'Potter and I!'"

Draco moved to a wardrobe in the corner and grabbed some clothes from it. He put them on quickly, the letter still clutched in his hands.

"Where are you going?" Blaise asked stiffly. His face was still hard but his eyes showed remorse at his words during his moment of anger.

"I'm going for a walk. Don't come after me!" Draco snapped. He then threw the letter at Blaise, who caught it before it fluttered to the ground. "And, as it so happens, Potter was saying his farewell."

Draco stomped out, leaving Blaise to look decidedly guilty. Hadrian couldn't believe he had thought their morning-after was full of affection just a while earlier.

The image shifted on him again and settled on what looked to be a press conference in the Great Hall. Every newspaper and journalist—from all different nationalities—he knew was there, the persistent Rita Skeeter at the forefront. Dumbledore was sitting in his seat at the High Table, surrounded by half the Order.

"Silence, please," Dumbledore called, raising a wrinkled hand. "We will try to answer all of your questions, but only one at a time."

"Mr. Potter hasn't been seen for over two weeks and has made some rather large donations to several organizations;" a tall man with a soft German accent said, "can you tell us where he has gone?"

Dumbledore shook his head regretfully. "No, I cannot tell you. Harry has made a conscious decision to go somewhere he believed he would be happier; that is all I can say on the matter."

"Are the rumors true, then?" Rita Skeeter asked, a gleam in her eyes as her damned quill wrote away for some reason Hadrian could not fathom. "That Potter has gone underground to train with a werewolf clan?"

_Where do they get this stuff? _Hadrian thought, scandalized.

"No, Ms. Skeeter," Dumbledore replied, an amused twinkle in his eyes. "Whatever rumors you may have heard are most certainly not true."

"You say that Potter went somewhere he would be happier," a reporter whose international newspaper Hadrian recalled giving his first post-Voldemort interview to called from the back. "Does that mean he was unhappy before?"

"I think Harry could not settle into this quiet life after years of adventure and so went on to _his _next 'great adventure.'" Dumbledore's face took on a fond reminiscent expression as he said this.

Hadrian realized that if no one else understood why he had done what he had done, then at least his mentor did (as only Albus Dumbledore could). That was all he could really ask for.

Whatever other questions the reporters were going to ask was cut off as the scene changed again. This time, he could see what was unquestionably the Burrow. The entire Weasley family, Hermione, Remus, and Tonks were in the living room surrounding a very large Christmas tree and opening piles of presents. The Wizarding Wireless Network had been moved from the kitchen and tuned into Celestina Warbeck's Christmas Concerts.

Hermione reached under the tree and took out a present wrapped in typical Gryffindor colors. She looked at the tag on it and she seemed to choke up as she said, "This one is for Harry."

A silence befell the room as everyone stared at the present until, finally, Mrs. Weasley said in a voice that suggested she knew exactly what it was, "Well, open it, why don't you?"

Hermione opened the present delicately, without tearing any of the wrapping paper. She uncovered it and took out the present inside. Hadrian shouldn't have been as stunned as he was when she held up the annual Weasley jumper with the large "H" on it. The sweater was a tasteful forest green and the letter was gold.

He would have loved to add that to his collection, though he wouldn't be caught dead in them now. For the first time since he left, Hadrian felt a pang of loss and he missed his friends something fierce. He didn't know why he was seeing this but if any of this had happened since he left, this was the only chance he would get to know how they were doing; the only glimpse he would get of what was happening in the other world.

"Oh, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione practically sobbed as she hugged the jumper to her.

Both Mrs. Weasley and Ginny went over to hug and grieve with her and Hadrian wished he could get away from this before it became any more emotional. Thankfully, the scene switched to just Remus and Tonks snuggling on the sofa in the living room of the Marauder's Den.

Hadrian couldn't believe how much younger and happier Remus looked. He was extremely glad Tonks was doing good for him. He had been afraid Remus would think that he had failed him after he left and go into some sort of depression.

"Hey, Remus," Tonks started, cutting into the silence, "I've been thinking."

"About?"

"The baby," she replied and Hadrian only then noticed that her stomach was a whole lot bigger than he remembered it being. "I thought it would be great to name him after Harry."

Remus sat up straighter. "Really? Didn't you want to name him Teddy?"

Tonks tilted her head back to look up at him with a tender smile. "My dad is still alive. Who's to say we'll ever see Harry again? If anyone deserves this, it's him. Besides, doesn't it have a nice ring to it? Harrison 'Harry' Remus Lupin."

Remus's amber eyes seemed to tear up as he hugged her tightly. "Yes. Yes, it does. Thank you."

Once again, Hadrian felt his heart clench and, for a moment, he felt bereft. Then he remembered that he had done what needed to be done to survive and that he was happy now, as were all his friends. He didn't regret his actions and, given the chance, he would do the same thing again. There was no point in mourning over it.

Slowly, his image started to fade and blacken in that telltale sign of one who was about to completely lose their consciousness. Hadrian easily released his hold on everything and waited for sleep to swallow him, happy that Halloween hadn't thrown something much worse at him this time.

He would figure out why this had occurred later on, but, for now, he was just so very tired and sleepy…

**000**

Tom looked down on the sleeping boy, mildly astonished. He'd never expected Hadrian to let down his guard like this and sleep in the common room where anything could be done to him, especially after last night's feast.

A flicker of movement in the shadows cast by several objects caught his eye and lay to rest his conclusions. So Hadrian hadn't left himself at the mercy of hormonal teenagers, but had his Shadows protecting him. Anyone who reached for him would regret it, Tom suspected.

All day yesterday, Tom had kept his eye on his new Housemate. It hadn't taken him long to realize that Hadrian Black did indeed hate Halloween. He had never met any magical person, let alone a pureblood, so morose during such an important holiday before. Hadrian hid it well but Tom was good at reading people and could easily spot something when he knew what he was looking for. What was the story behind his hatred?

Tom lost him during the feast and had been bemused as to how Hadrian got away without anyone's notice before he recalled that Shadow Lord's had their own mode of _undetectable _transportation. Deciding not to worry about it, Tom had gotten back to his feast and supposed Hadrian went to his dorm to sleep early.

But then Hadrian hadn't shown up for breakfast or Potions that morning and, when Tom had asked, he hadn't quite believed what the Slytherins had told him their Housemate was doing: _sleeping right in the middle of the common room_. So he had come to investigate as was his duty since the rest of his House were apparently idiots who couldn't even wake one person up when they saw him slumbering in the common room.

Of course, now he knew why they hadn't been able to wake him since the Shadows practically screamed "Keep away!" and any sensible person would be reluctant to get close to that ominous feeling of magic. How was he supposed to wake Hadrian before the end of the break if he wasn't able to get close? (Why did he care so much if the boy missed one day of classes?)

He remembered that Saturday three weeks ago when Hadrian had told him something always happened to him on Halloween. Could this be a sign? Was there a specific reason he was suddenly sleeping in the common room? If so, then what had happened here last night?

Taking the seat across from the one Hadrian was lying on, Tom studied the mysterious youth. Hadrian's face had a serene look to it, the kind one got when one was sleeping heavily and dreaming of absolutely nothing. His chest rose and fell softly. His long hair draped over his shoulders in the side position he was sleeping in and his bangs weren't covering his forehead for the first time.

Tom saw a shape of something on Hadrian's forehead and quite suddenly recollected that he had been clutching that exact spot that same Saturday three weeks ago, right after he had accidentally broken the potion's jars. Getting out of his seat, he moved as if in a trance toward the other boy and toward what he could now identify as a scar. But not just any scar. His senses were going crazy, this scar was pulsating with mouthwateringly enticing Dark magic.

Before he even knew what he was doing, Tom was in Hadrian's face and his fingers moved to trace the peculiar lightning bolt-shaped scar. His fingers tingled and a fantastic rush went through him. Hadrian _moaned _and Tom froze, afraid he had woken him but unwilling to stop feeling this wonderful sensation of pure power coursing up and down his body.

"Don't stop," Hadrian whimpered in his sleep. "Feels nice."

Tom fisted his mouth to keep any sound in as his arousal shot to attention under his robes. _Shit, shit, shit_, this was happening too fast. He withdrew his hand and Hadrian's whimper of loss only made his case even worse. He looked around himself and noticed that he had somehow gotten past the Shadows and had actually touched their Lord. He didn't know how that had happened but he didn't waste the opportunity.

Leaning forward, Tom shook Hadrian's shoulder gently. "Hadrian, wake up."

Hadrian groaned and shifted. His arm immediately moved to cover his forehead with a wince. "Fuck, I feel like I got run over by a herd of hippogriffs."

"Did you have too much to drink, perhaps?" Tom guessed, though he didn't see him as the type who drank so much they passed out in the common room.

Hadrian removed his hand and sat up abruptly, and then leaned back on the sofa, grimacing because he moved too fast. "Tom. What are you doing here?"

Tom lifted a brow and said, "Care to tell me what _you_ are doing sleeping in the common room?"

"I wasn't drinking if that's what you thought," replied Hadrian. "I have this raging headache."

"You should go to the infirmary, you have already missed your first class," Tom informed him.

"I hate hospitals. I'll take care of it," Hadrian said as he got out his wand.

Tom watched him wave his wand in some complicated moves he had never seen before, even from the school's mediwitch. He deduced Hadrian's scar must have hurt him multiple times before and he had found a solution for it.

"How did you procure that strange scar?" Tom asked, not really expecting a truthful answer but wondering anyway.

Hadrian gave him a sidelong glance before he got to his feet. "Accident," was all he said.

It could be true but it was so vague it didn't matter. Tom shook his head in amusement and turned towards the common room exit.

"Let's get to class, then."

**000**

After consulting his _**Moderamen Cosmicos**_ book, Hadrian had found the reason for seeing all those visions of the old world. Usually, when a person left their old universe and they carried with them a particularly strong connection to it, they would witness what was happening there on the date they had left.

So since Hadrian still had his scar, he would be seeing what had happened in the old world every Halloween. That world was also fifty-three years and three months ahead of Hadrian's (since he left October 31st, 1997 in the old world and arrived August 4th, 1944 in the new world) so he would always see the events up to January 27th.

Though the revelation hadn't been unwelcome, Hadrian didn't like being surprised. He had read the entire, large tome for the first time after the incident. In hindsight, it had been quite daft of him to expect all information about universe-traveling to be provided only in the section he had found the spell. The whole book dealt with the cosmos, after all.

Later, Hadrian found out that Dark students in Hogwarts weren't much different from Dark students in Beauxbatons when it came to Samhain. The celebration was small and took place in the Room of Requirement. Almost the whole of Slytherin, half of Ravenclaw, and some Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs met there at six for a party organized by Prudence Nott and Ravenclaw Xanthia Viridian.

After the initial ritual, which only took an hour, it was almost like a regular party (kinda). But Hadrian got bored halfway through it since there would be no dancing and sat down in the back where he wouldn't be bothered much.

"Bored?"

He looked up and saw Tom's amused face. "Extremely so."

Tom smirked, tilted his head invitingly, and drawled, "Care for a duel?"

"Where would it take place?" Hadrian asked, though he was also smiling and anticipation started coursing through him.

"I have it on good authority that the courtyard is excellent for dueling," Tom said.

He'd never tried it but it sounded interesting to him. Besides, he was determined to win this round since he had lost last time. That was probably why Tom seemed so confident now.

Hadrian got up and said, "Lead the way."

As Tom and Hadrian went to the door, more than a few eyes watched them leave, some in anger, some in interest, and some with envy.

* * *

**TERMS:**

_Virtvtis Fortvna Comes - Good luck is the companion of courage._ Potter family motto.

_À tout à l'heure. -_ I'll see you soon.

**_arrondissement_ (districts)_ - _**The city of Paris is divided into twenty _arrondissements municipaux_, more simply referred to as arrondissements.

**_Moderamen - _**controlling

_**Cosmicos -**_ of the world

* * *

I tried to make everything as clear as I could but just in case it wasn't clear enough (some of you had some crazy ideas about Lily and James), here it is: James and Lily died October 31, 1933 (when Hadrian was six) but, before that, they gave up their baby because they were on the run. Hadrian thinks he is that baby and that he was given to Adrianna and Regulus Black and then adopted magically. We'll see if he's right later. If you have any questions, just leave a review and I will reply (I can't if it's anonymous though) or PM me.

And finally, thank you guys for sticking with me, it really spurred me on to keep writing. Here is the **secret** (I actually put in an abundant amount of hints in this chapter so you would figure it out before I told you): The voice is most definitely not their conscience and there is a reason—also connected with the voice—why they are so magnetically attracted to each other. I'm not telling why yet but keep in mind that something else is helping them along (two extremely prideful and stubborn and dominant guys-it would take an awfully long time otherwise).

_For a picture of the Scrying Compass, go to my profile for the link. Also go there for a link of the picture I based the description of a Drake off of._

* * *

Edited: 9/14/08


	7. Hollow Thunder

_**Hollow Thunder, Vital Lightning -**__Aariya_

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle

Genre: Drama, Romance, Fantasy, Action/Adventure

Summary: Life after Voldemort is ideal and perfect for everyone except the one who made it possible. Unbelievably bored and unhappy, Harry performs a spell that will take him to an alternate universe where he can be happiest with Voldemort. Even he hadn't expected the outcomes or how the spell would misinterpret his desires.

Warnings: _slash_; AU; Slytherin!Harry; Dark!Harry (sorta)...and another one I took out that you will have to figure out for yourself; it's kind of crucial to the plot so I can't tell you!

Spoilers: Compliant with first five books and includes information from six and seven.

**Disclaimer:** Unless I'm still dreaming, Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

.-.

"HTVL" - English, or other human languages

_HTVL - Thoughts, Spells, Special Text (titles and such)_

_"HTVL" - Parseltongue, Incanted Spells, or a language within a language_

_**HTVL - Parselmagic (spells and the language in writing)**_

Chapter 7: Hollow Thunder

* * *

The Hogwarts grapevine had never been quite as active as it had been this week. Well, excluding that whole Chamber of Secrets fiasco the year before. News at this school traveled quite fast, especially when it involved the most popular person to grace its halls in probably a very long time and the mysterious transfer student not many knew as well as some would claim.

It had all started in the Room of Requirement as far as some knew: the Samhain celebration all the students who considered themselves Dark attended. The two had been seen leaving together a good deal before the party came to an end without so much as an explanation to anyone (not that Tom Riddle ever had to justify himself to others). Actually, it could be argued that it began even before that.

Many people had noticed how much time Tom Riddle spent with Hadrian Black ever since the enigmatic student showed up. While most of that had to do with the fact that they were partners for their class project, they interacted much better than what one would expect from mere educational partners. By the middle of October, they had even gotten on first name basis! It took a long time to get that close to the Head Boy and, even so, outside Slytherin, only a few close acquaintances had ever had that privilege.

Either way, after Samhain, several people outside of Slytherin couldn't restrain themselves and chatted about the happenings to anyone who would listen. The Slytherins knew it was utterly poor conduct to gossip about the proceedings, especially when it was about their leader so they stayed clear of the mess. Hufflepuff Aileas Gibbon had been the first to tell her cousin, seventh-year Gryffindor Dalilah Crouch and, so, not too long after, the whole school was abuzz with rumors.

Of course, they tried to keep it to a minimum whenever either boy was within hearing range. It was obvious that if the Head Boy heard any of the things said about him in conjunction with the new Black student, he would go out of his way to make an example out of whoever started the rumors.

Some of the things said weren't too far from the truth, though. Many people had watched both boys this week and learned startling things. At some point during their work, Tom and Hadrian had stopped meeting in the library and opted for the more secretive Room of Requirement. On Tuesday, two prefects on duty had even seen them leaving the room late at night, both Tom and Hadrian slightly sweaty.

And, boy, hadn't that sent the rumor mill into a frenzy—let alone the subsequent drama that unfolded before them the rest of the week….

**000**

The Tuesday after Samhain, Hadrian and Tom met in their new designated meeting place of the Room of Requirement to work on their project. After the last full moon, they had started work on trying to make their Scrying Compass able to find Unplottable locations.

They knew that would be harder than making it like a portkey so they needed all the time to do that. Not to mention, the full moon would be the Friday of next week and their rune design incorporated use of the strongest celestial body, just as Hadrian had predicted.

They had decided to use the gems on the compass to anchor the magic into, which required a large chunk of both their magic. Hadrian was pretty confident that, with their combined forces, they would be able to make this work.

Today, all that had to be done was finishing up the arithmetic equations and integrating that into the final rune design. This was Tom's specialty so Hadrian just watched him at work, surprisingly content with giving up control, though he didn't give this action much thought.

The room's décor was the same as the first time they had come here and they were once again sitting on the long couch together. Hadrian was at one end, playing with his wand casually while gazing at his partner, who sat in the center of the couch, stooped over a parchment on the table in front of him.

Hadrian couldn't help thinking Tom looked enormously arresting with the shadows of the fire casting off his face. His hair fell into his eyes slightly and his dark eyes gleamed in the dim light. He was like a bloody painting, making such a perfect picture it was frustrating—especially when Hadrian could only ogle him and not do anything about it.

_Had he just thought that?_

"Hadrian."

If Tom hadn't turned to face him and hadn't been staring expectantly, Hadrian would not have noticed that he'd been trying to get his attention for quite some time.

"Yes?"

Tom observed him intently awhile then said, "Is something the matter? You seem…preoccupied."

_Yeah, with him._ Ah, the ever helpful voice. He'd almost fooled himself into thinking it had ceased pestering him.

"No," Hadrian denied. "Just thinking. Are you done?"

His expression skeptical, Tom handed over the parchment for Hadrian to check, though they both knew it was almost next to impossible for Tom to miscalculate. Hadrian gave it a cursory glance, nonetheless, and then placed it on the table.

"Looks fine," he said carelessly.

Tom threw him an amused smile but didn't comment. "We are finished for the day, then. I suppose you will not object to a duel?"

Hadrian was already moving before Tom had even finished speaking. Anything to distract him from the boy's proximity and body heat was welcome. He heard Tom snort softly as he too stood up and the room immediately shifted to provide for their needs. Hadrian took out the leather band he used for the duels and tied his hair back. They then moved to the stand and commenced the ritual to start the duel.

For about the first ten minutes of the duel, it was normal enough. They threw spells back and forth at each other and combated, trying to knock each other unconscious or take the other's wand. Tom, however, broke the routine with a spell he'd never used before.

Hadrian jumped back in surprise when a colossal black, golden-marked serpent leaped out at him. He glanced over to see smug amusement on Tom's face then looked back at the vicious snake that was now moving to strike him.

He recognized the snake from his life in the war. It had been Voldemort's favorite, in fact—one of the few nonverbal Parselspells there was. Usually Parselmagic needed the use of the tongue to work properly but, in some cases—such as this—the signature of the Parselmouth's magic was much better.

This particular spell, _**The Enchantress**_, required a great deal of power from the caster, as the snake was immune to almost all magic. Once the snake bit someone, she drained energy from them until the person passed out. Most people weren't strong enough to throw the serpent off once she sank her fangs into them.

"Oh, you've been holding out on me I see, Tom," Hadrian said, stepping to the side as the snake's head bobbed down to bite at him again.

"I'm sure you have a couple secrets of your own," Tom returned amusedly, twirling his wand lazily and smugly watching Hadrian stealthily evade his snake, though he wouldn't be able to do so for too long.

Hadrian smiled and stopped moving, sweeping his wand in a long arc as he said, "You're certainly right about that."

Tom might think his snake unbeatable, but Hadrian had encountered it enough to figure a way out of this. He was only using his wand to trick Tom, but he suspected the Slytherin heir would know what he was doing at any rate. Tom already knew about his Shadows and it would be unmistakable that they were at work, granted he could see this piece of work.

Hadrian pretended to use his wand to direct his Shadows as a small piece disconnected. The piece was a grayish-black blob that traveled the length of the stand and sped towards the snake at a speed much faster than anyone or thing could see. He could feel it, though, and the moment it joined and wrapped around the serpent's own shadow, he smirked up at Tom.

His partner looked guarded, as though he were wondering what Hadrian had done. His eyes widened marginally, though, when _**The Enchantress**_ turned on him, her previously golden eyes now completely black. He stepped back as the serpent hissed angrily and bore her fangs.

Hadrian wasn't surprised at all when Tom scowled, waved his wand in a complicated swish, and the large creature vanished. Voldemort had done this as well, despite his frustration at not knowing how his "indestructible" spell had been countered. Hadrian could control the snake but it was fueled by Tom's magic, thus allowing him to rid of it anytime he so chose.

Tom tilted his head up as he appraised Hadrian. Hadrian returned the gaze and, for a moment, really wanted to know what Tom was thinking. But it was short, as was Tom's assessment, before they were once again dodging curses from one another.

It turned out to be the longest duel they had had to date. Tom came off as very frustrated and fought much harder than he had before, using more and more spells and techniques he had never used. Hadrian had to use more tricks and most of the skills he had been hiding to keep up with his partner. But Hadrian wasn't upset with the change and enjoyed Tom's sudden fervor.

Hadrian thought Tom was trying to test his limits but didn't think it likely that he would succeed in finding them. The only person who had ever made him give his all had been Voldemort and, though Tom was quickly starting to rival his counterpart, he still had a while to go until he would become the master Voldemort had been. Even Hadrian himself had only survived that megalomaniac mainly due to his magical prowess, knowledge of Parselmagic (including their counters), and his beloved Shadows.

Voldemort had had decades of ambitious experience over him and sometimes he wondered how he had come out of that final battle. The whole thing had been a blur up until the point he killed Voldemort—a moment that felt like an eternity to contrast the rest of the fight.

And then there had been that empty feeling, like his very soul had separated from his body and all he could think about for a whole minute was that he felt inexplicably hollow. Of course, not too long after, his only thought had been single-minded rage at _not being able to get any bloody satisfaction_ from destroying his greatest enemy.

Hadrian blinked in surprise when a spell violently collided against his shield. He hadn't expected Tom to throw such a powerful curse and, by the look on his opponent's face, he had done it deliberately. Thankfully, the two spells only negated one another and he didn't suffer any ill effects from the impact.

"Pay attention, Black," Tom cautioned mockingly.

Hadrian only had a brief second in where he resented the formality until he realized that his distraction had really cost him. Tendrils of black magic rose out of the ground and firmly wrapped around his feet, then moved up to bind his waist, arms, and neck before he had a chance to put a stop to them.

He understood now why Tom had wanted his shield out of the way and immediately regretted his carelessness. He couldn't get out of this if he tried. Though it took a lot of power to cast and maintain, the _Niger Helix_ was definitely worth it once someone actually got the chance to use it in a duel—even if only a Dark wizard would cast it. With this, his magic wouldn't be able to work against Tom's own unless he was released.

Knowing he had won, Tom strolled over to him with a superior smirk on his handsome face. Hadrian barely kept himself from rolling his eyes at his partner when he began to circle him predatorily. He couldn't move his neck and, so, it was very unnerving when Tom stopped behind him.

"It seems…" a breath against his neck— "I have you at my mercy…" _too _close—"Hadrian…" _right next to his fucking ear_!

"All right, you have won this round," Hadrian said as calmly as he could manage but knew he was losing that battle quickly. "Release me."

A deep chuckle and Tom was still too close for his liking and now his wand had joined in the endeavor of unsettling him when he started to trace the tip with his own magic. Every cell in Hadrian's body got the message from his brain not to react but, nevertheless, a small compulsory tremor went through him. And, to his horror, something else responded.

_What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you actually turned on? How pathetic!_

Hadrian could feel his magic rising wherever Tom traced the black wisps with his wand. It wasn't trying to free him but was instead reacting as if it were answering some kind of call from Tom's magic. They were highly compatible; he could feel it in his very bones as both auras yearned to connect.

He heard more than felt Tom's shudder and knew he could feel it, too. If nothing else, he was thankful for this. Almost hastily, Tom stepped back and instantly retracted his magic and set him free. Hadrian turned to watch him, but Tom's face had already been rearranged to display a cool expression.

"That is enough for today," Tom said firmly. "It is past curfew; we should leave before it gets too late."

Hadrian thought this echoed back to that memorable day in the potions lab and, for a second, he could only stare at Tom and reflect on what had happened. It seemed neither of them wanted to comment on it, and Hadrian was more than willing to forget about it and hope there wouldn't be a repeat of this.

_Keep telling yourself that,_ the voice retorted with a distinctive snicker to it.

Shaking his head, Hadrian followed Tom out the door when he realized the boy had already moved. They walked in silence on their way to their dorms. Once they reached the fifth floor, they exchanged soft good nights and went their separate ways.

Instead of directly Stalking to his dorm, Hadrian descended the rest of the stairs in order to think and walk off his still unrelenting arousal. He couldn't believe he'd gotten so aroused, though. Sure, there had been times when dueling with Tom had caused him to stir but that wasn't even the same situation.

He had been trapped—and had been turned on by it! By Voldemort, for Merlin's sake! He still couldn't quite grasp it.

_You see, you can no longer deny your attraction._

_Oh, shut up!_ Hadrian answered the voice for the first time in a month. _I'm really getting fed up with you!_

_I am only pointing out the obvious. Far be it from me to let you continue on with your delusions._ It sounded amused.

Hadrian didn't want to encourage it so he didn't reply and went back to thinking about this problem with the Slytherin heir. The more he thought about it, he realized that whatever this was with Tom was rather unhealthy. He could accept Tom as an adversary, as a partner, or—dare he say it—even as a _friend_, but anything more? The very thought made him enormously uncomfortable.

Maybe he was more sexually frustrated than he had previously thought. Yes, that made a lot of sense, actually. Remembering his promise to Cassius last month, Hadrian made a split second impulsive decision to do something about it. Turning around, he headed back in the direction of the fifth floor.

_What do you think you are doing? _The voice sounded a little panicked.

Hadrian rolled his eyes and paid it no further attention. It was only just past curfew and, despite it being a weekday, he didn't think Cassius would be asleep. He was going to put a stop to these ridiculous _attractions_ (loath though he was to call it that) once and for all.

It wasn't long before he went up the spiraling staircase leading to the Ravenclaw Tower and stood in front of the entrance. The bronze eagle knocker stared back at him as he stopped to think about what he would do before going in. He'd had a very brief fling with a seventh-year Ravenclaw at the end of his sixth year and they'd gone up to the boy's dorm once so he knew what one had to do to get inside. He also knew it would be impossible to get to the dorms without at least everyone in the common room seeing.

He didn't want to Stalk to the dorms straightaway in case Cassius happened to be in the common room. It took him a minute to settle on a plan that was to his satisfaction. Once he did, he wrapped his own shadow around himself and gathered the abundant shadows that clung to the walls and floor. Now completely invisible and able to walk through walls, he passed through the entrance.

As he had suspected, not many people were asleep. Almost every student fourth year and up was awake. He looked around the large circular room for Cassius and pinpointed him reading in an armchair on the far left side of the room. Thankfully, there weren't very many people surrounding him and those who were had their eyes on their own books.

Hadrian carefully maneuvered through the room until he stood over Cassius's shoulder. Leaning down, he blew a soft breath on Cassius's neck. The Ravenclaw stopped for a second in reaction and Hadrian had just enough time to step back as Cassius looked behind him. He stared for a moment before returning to his book.

Grinning, Hadrian did it again with a more forceful breath. This time, Cassius froze for about thirty seconds then went back to reading. Trying to keep from laughing, Hadrian put up Silencing and Notice-Me-Not Charms around them. He leaned forward again and encircled his arms around Cassius. He found it quite admirable that Cassius's only reaction was to stiffen and try to move for his wand.

"Relax," Hadrian whispered into his ear and grabbed the hand that was creeping toward Cassius's robe pocket.

"Hadrian?" Cassius sounded shocked.

"Good evening, Cassius," Hadrian replied, amusement coloring his voice.

"What are you doing here?" Cassius whispered. He tried to move his head to look behind him but Hadrian prevented him from doing so.

"Why don't you join me in your room and I'll let you know?" Hadrian suggested, uncoiling his arms and standing up fully.

Cassius calmly closed his book and got up. Hadrian followed him to the door across from the entrance after removing the charms. Calling a good night to the students in the common room, Cassius opened the door and Hadrian slipped in after him. They went up the stairs until they reached the seventh-year boys' dorm.

The room was much like the common room: abundantly blue. There were nine beds arranged in a U-shape and windows on every wall except the one at the front of the room. Three beds were on the right side of the room and three were on the left, across from the door. There was also another door on the left side about ten feet from the first bed that he knew led to the bathroom. The last three beds were placed horizontally in the room and against the windows at the back wall.

There was no one else in there but Hadrian was thankful when Cassius led the way to a bed on the right side and horizontally against the back windows. He took the time to unleash the Shadows as Cassius pulled the drapes around his bed and put up what he guessed were privacy spells.

Once he finished and turned around, Hadrian immediately reached to kiss him. Cassius's arms came around his waist and he returned the kiss fervently. Hadrian's fingers tangled in his hair and he twisted their bodies around so Cassius's back was to the bed instead. A hand traced down his spine and he shuddered as he deepened the kiss and moved so Cassius fell back onto the bed. Without breaking the contact between their lips, Hadrian straddled him and continued to explore the body beneath him with his hands.

He was uninterrupted until the Ravenclaw broke their kiss, flushed and slightly out of breath. Hadrian moved onto his long neck as Cassius tried to talk in-between his pants and moans.

"Hadrian—" a guttural moan broke off his next words as Hadrian's hand slipped under his shirt and brushed against his hard nipple, "h-how…did you…get in?"

Hadrian stopped to look at him with a sly smile. "That does not matter. I promised you we would finish this, did I not? I came here at great risk to myself, Cassius. _Que demande le peuple?_"

Cassius groaned appreciatively and pulled him down for another kiss, saying breathily, "Nothing at all."

After that, everything happened fast. Hadrian was only aware of the sensations he felt and the gasps and groans that filled the room. They were both naked and had heated skin sliding against heated skin before they were even conscious of getting that far.

"Have you ever…?" Hadrian asked, taking the small bottle of lubricant Cassius had grabbed from his night table and pressing a finger against his opening, already rock hard and practically shaking with need.

"Only once," gasped Cassius, an expression that didn't appear to be fond of the memory on his face, though he trembled against the contact of Hadrian's finger.

Hadrian sensed his uncertainty and planted a reassuring kiss on his lips. "I'll be gentle," he promised.

**000**

Hadrian woke to his internal clock only to find that he was not in his room and had a warm body pressed up against him. He glanced to his left to see Cassius sleeping with a content look on his face. They were both in a state of undress and Cassius had his left arm on his waist.

He hadn't wanted to sleep here, but Hadrian didn't quite remember how it had happened. Sex had never worn him out enough for him to fall asleep (unless more than a couple rounds were involved).

After Cassius had fallen asleep, Hadrian had stayed up thinking that having finally had sex with the Ravenclaw hadn't made him feel any better for it. He couldn't put a finger on why but he had felt as though he had committed a grave mistake afterward. He thought it ridiculous, really; he'd had sex plenty of times without ever feeling that way.

He wasn't sure exactly when he had fallen asleep but he figured it was when he had come to the conclusion that he wasn't as sexually frustrated as he'd thought, after all. He hadn't got around to realizing that that meant he was actually attracted to _Tom Riddle_ but now it hit him like a ton of bricks.

Sitting up with a scowl, Hadrian untangled himself from the supine form of his bed partner. He got up from the bed and searched for his clothes. When he found them, he quickly put them on after performing a cleansing charm on himself.

He wrapped the Shadows around himself and silently left the Ravenclaw Tower, intent on getting his shower before breakfast. He ignored the thoughts that came with his little revelation as best he could and substituted them with an averment of his own.

_I am not attracted to Voldemort! How utterly preposterous!_

The voice was curiously absent.

**000**

Most of the Slytherin seventh-year students had come down for breakfast and Hadrian was still nowhere to be found. Tom couldn't recall a day Hadrian had arrived late, even if this wouldn't really be considered late yet.

He hoped the boy wasn't avoiding him; last night had been a little weird. Last time something like this happened, they had stayed out of each other's way. Neither of them really knew how to deal with it.

Tom still couldn't believe he had done that. But he had felt as if he had no control; like even if he had wanted to stop (which he certainly hadn't wanted to), he would have been incapable of doing so. It had been a bit hard to fall asleep afterward. All he had been able to think about was the pleasure he felt of having the usually in control Hadrian at his mercy. Or of having him wrapped around his magic. It was truly indescribable.

Two minutes and several students later, Hadrian came through the doors of the Great Hall. Alphard immediately waved him over, moving to give him room between Antonin and he, which left Hadrian across from Tom.

Tom watched the boy—who seemed to be avoiding catching his eye—critically and felt something off about him. A wrong scent or impression on him that woke something deep within Tom. His aura was tainted and befouled by someone else's. Tilting his head marginally, Tom studied it more, trying to place his finger on it.

He was aware he was staring and that others had noticed by now but, dammit, he was going to figure this out. Besides, Hadrian still hadn't glanced up or seemed to notice that he was being so closely scrutinized. He was calmly eating his breakfast; well, it would have been calm if he didn't go out of his way not to look ahead.

Before his thoughts could progress any further, Tom noticed that Cassius Zabini (who was practically glowing) had sidled up to their table, his tall frame looming behind Hadrian. Hadrian, either sensing the presence or realizing that all conversation had ceased at their end of the table, looked behind him.

"Good morning, Cassius." To his credit, he sounded completely unsurprised, as if he had been expecting this. Though from the tightening of his jaw, Tom was sure he was the only one who could tell it was an unwelcome disruption. "How may I help you?"

The Ravenclaw held out a small leather band to Hadrian. "Good morning. Sorry to interrupt your meal but I thought I'd return this."

Hadrian took the band with a smile. "Ah, thank you. I had wondered where this was."

Tom instantly recognized the band as the one Hadrian used to keep his long hair out of the way during their duels. He had used it just last night, in fact. Tom easily pieced together what this meant and the beginnings of a storm raged inside him.

An enraged voice from within screamed, _"MINE!" _and Tom readily echoed the sentiment.

He wanted nothing more than to make Zabini suffer for even daring to look at what was his. He knew his eyes changed color when he felt a particularly strong emotion and Tom would bet they were currently the reddest they had ever been because he couldn't quite remember ever feeling this intense need to torture someone until they were an unrecognizable mess.

With a nod to everyone else, Zabini turned to go to his table. It took Tom every ounce of willpower not to whip his wand out and curse him with the darkest spell he knew. He did notice that he wasn't the only one glaring daggers at the Ravenclaw, however. Alphard was scowling darkly at him and Tom was sure he didn't even understand what it meant that Zabini had had Hadrian's band. It mattered not, though. The moment Tom could get away with it, he would be permanently eliminating the problem that was Zabini himself.

The emerald-eyed boy was slipping the band in question into his robe pocket, seeming not to be fazed by all the eyes on him. Hadrian glanced up briefly and their eyes met. A surprised look etched onto his face and Tom surmised his eyes must still be red.

Tom's last thought before he looked away was, _You're mine; no one else's. _

He didn't care why he was suddenly acknowledging this; just that it felt right and that was the truth of the matter.

**000**

"They were _both_ sweating?"

"That's what Alex tells me."

"Do you think they were—"

"Of course! It's no secret what Black prefers and I don't think Riddle cares either way about that. Remember the rumors about him and Malfoy two years ago?"

Dalilah Crouch prided herself on being the indisputable Gossip Queen of Hogwarts. Nothing escaped her and she made sure that everyone would talk about whatever she heard or was told before the end of the day. That was why she always told fifth-year Gryffindor Maeva Connolly her news first. The girl didn't know it yet, but Dalilah planned on making her her successor (plus she was a big mouth). Aileas, her cousin, would have been a better choice, but this was both their last year.

The students didn't understand that the grapevine at Hogwarts was a very systematic process. People like Dalilah had been keeping it alive and fanning the flames for years. Dalilah herself had been chosen as the next person to take the title and so had others before her. Gossiping was much harder than others gave it credit for. A good gossiper had to make sure the gossip didn't get too distorted (unless she wanted it that way), which happened a lot more than she would have originally thought.

"Lila!"

Dalilah looked towards the portrait door where Aileas was now excitedly running through, blonde hair bouncing as she made her way to the sofas in the middle of the room.

"What's got you so wound up?" Dalilah asked, amused despite being fairly used to her cousin's behavior.

"Where were you at breakfast?" Aileas asked.

"I chose not to go," said Dalilah.

She decided she'd tell her the real reason (that she was prepping Maeva for a round of gossip that would have them both most likely cursed within an inch of their life if Tom Riddle ever found out about it) when there weren't so many people around.

Aileas sat down next to her and whispered, "Well, you missed about the most intriguing thing…"

By the time classes ended, the whole of Hogwarts was abuzz with the news. At the first prefect meeting of the month that day, even the role models of the school could not help participating in it.

Almost all the prefects and the Head Girl were in the room. The only people missing were the Head Boy and the Slytherin prefects, who always came in with him as if they were his bodyguards. There was a rule at these meetings, set by Tom Riddle himself. Should anyone come after Riddle, they would be barred from the meeting and then they could explain to their Head of House why that was.

The meetings started at seven in the evening and Riddle, ever punctual, came right on the dot. Though it had been hard to get used to, they had all learned their lesson. The prefects now showed up at least four to five minutes before he did. This usually led to talking about the latest gossip before they would all become bored with the technicalities of regulations being kept up at the school once the meeting commenced.

"I knew it! I said it, didn't I? First day Black was here I said, 'Five galleons Riddle will be all over that guy before anyone gets to him.' He's a Black, it was inevitable."

"From what I hear, Zabini got to him first."

"Hey, now, Cassius has been one of my best mates since first year. He would have told me something like that!"

"For a Ravenclaw, Nicolae, you've never been really good at noticing that type of thing."

"Are you telling me you've noticed, Caprice?"

"Of course. It doesn't take a genius to know Cassius and Hadrian have been eyeing one another since September. This incident just proves my suspicions."

"You don't know what you're talking about. Even if it had happened in our dorm, don't you think I would have noticed something like that? Don't you think Zian would have? He sleeps in the bed right next to him!"

"Oh, please, brother! You've been a wizard your whole life—think about it!"

"Ah, I don't think I've ever met twins so out of sync. Can we get back to the topic at hand, guys? You can continue your little argument later."

"What is going on here?" The cold voice sent a shiver through them all.

Tom Riddle had entered with his Slytherin entourage.

"Is this how prefects are expected to act?" he asked, narrowed eyes focused on the MacDougal twins, both of them looking quite ashamed at the reprimand from their leader.

"No. My apologies, Tom," they said in unison. "It won't happen again."

Tom sat at the head of the long, oval table. "See that it doesn't," he said. His eyes swept the length of the table, checking to see that everyone was here, and he continued, "Let us begin, then."

**000**

Quidditch was more intensive than ever that night. The game against Gryffindor was on Saturday and Anastius sure wasn't wasting any time. Gryffindor had the pitch booked after classes so Slytherin was left to practice after dinner and late into the night, until midnight. After which Hadrian was not granted a reprieve on Wednesdays, as he had to hurry off to Astronomy.

Hadrian was really starting to resent his captain but there seemed to be a method to his madness. They had to win this game, there was no way they couldn't with the way Anastius was working them until they developed all new aches. One would think the Seeker would be left alone since all he had to was look for the Snitch, but Hadrian had it just as bad as the rest of his teammates, including the reserves.

But, this practice coincided with one of those rare moments where he didn't want to focus on Quidditch and instead wanted to turn his thoughts inwards. He was utterly confused and he didn't particularly like the feeling one whit. The last time he'd been this way, Sirius had just died. Except, then, he had pulled out of those thoughts and turned his grief into something much better and useful for the war: a determination to defeat Voldemort that had burned.

He was sure if he were left to his own thoughts for at least an hour, he could figure this new puzzle out, too. But, between classes, homework, trying to avoid _both _Tom and Cassius—even knowing he would not succeed where Tom was concerned as they had to meet tomorrow— and Quidditch, it was almost next to impossible. He was tempted to lock himself in a room for a day and not come out until he had moved past this obstacle.

The words '_I am not attracted to Tom Riddle in any way, shape, or form.'_ had become like a mantra to him. His mind had certainly believed it with the conviction his tone suggested but his guts and instincts (he absolutely refused to call it his _heart)_ were not as fooled. He would remember, rather clearly, last night with Tom and his resolve would crumble, giving way to phantom sensations of Tom's magic surrounding him and beckoning his own.

A Bludger whizzed past him, just barely missing his left shoulder. He swerved out of the way as it turned back around for another try.

"Hadrian! C'mon, keep your head out of the clouds!" Anastius called from across the pitch. "We've only got two more days to practice!"

Hadrian kept himself from rolling his eyes in exasperation. He honestly wasn't in the mood for this right now. Couldn't a bloke get some time to brood or was that asking for too much?

**000**

Either Tom's paranoia was on high alert or his suspicions were spot on. Personally, he thought one could never be vigilant enough. Everywhere he went, he got the prickly feeling on his neck that always indicated someone was watching him. But, when he turned around, there were only his fellow students.

It frustrated him to no end because he did know there was someone. His hand hadn't stopped fingering the wand in his pocket. He would be ready the moment his suspicions were confirmed.

Besides that, he had long-established that Hadrian was avoiding him. (And, to his delight, Zabini as well.) He didn't like it and it offended him on so many different levels—he was Lord Voldemort, nobody ignored him! Hadrian had to have known he wouldn't be able to keep it up as, even now, Tom was headed for the Room of Requirement to work on their project.

The project itself was coming along nicely and he approximated they would be done in less than two weeks, which was a week and a half before it was to be turned in. By the twelfth of the month, their compass would support Unplottable locations and, if things continued as planned, it would act as a portkey by the eighteenth.

Tom arrived on the seventh floor and silently strolled down the span of corridors to the one where the room was situated. As he was reaching the last corridor, he heard the sound of voices. He stopped before he turned the corner and listened.

"—appreciate it, Alphard, but there's really no need. I don't want to trouble you," said a soft voice Tom instantly identified as Hadrian's.

"It's no trouble," Alphard insisted, his voice heavy with affection. "You're my cousin. There was a time I didn't need to remind you of that."

Hadrian sighed audibly. "I know; I'm sorry. And I've been meaning to spend some time with you but I've been so busy recent…"

He trailed off and Tom strained his ears, thinking he had dropped to a whisper but all that filled the air was silence. There was the soft swish of fabric, evidently indicating someone had moved. Tom was almost tempted to look but held on, curious to know what would happen next.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Hadrian inquired, sounding anxious.

"You don't have to give me the polite excuse, Hadrian. I understand," said Alphard dolefully. "I wish you felt like you could talk to me about whatever it is that's bothering you."

"There's nothing bothering me. I don't know why you think so," replied Hadrian.

Tom thought he was quick to defend and, apparently, so did Alphard because he heaved a deep sigh that could just as well have been a groan.

"You've been avoiding both Tom and Cassius. Three weeks ago, you couldn't keep your hands off Cassius. Care to explain that to me?" Alphard pointed out impatiently.

"I'm not avoiding Tom," Hadrian chose to say instead.

"Who are you trying to convince—me or you? If you didn't have to work on your project, you would never meet him. I've seen you go to great lengths to stay out of his way, Hadrian," Alphard returned.

"I have all his classes with him. It would be near impossible to do that. Anyway, I don't want to talk about this," Hadrian said tiredly.

"I don't understand it; ever since you came to Hogwarts it's like—"

"_Please_," Hadrian interrupted beseechingly. "Not right now. Tomorrow. We can talk all you want, then. I promise."

Tom couldn't understand why he was indulging Alphard or why he let him get away with such talk. He certainly couldn't imagine someone questioning him to such extent and getting off unscathed. Had he a family, Tom very much doubted he would make an exception for even them.

"I think you should go. Tom is always punctual," Hadrian continued after a moment of silence. His voice was once again the calm, gentle one Tom was used to.

"Hadrian," Alphard murmured. The rustle of fabric was heard again and he added, "I'm sorry. I'm being unreasonable."

"Don't apologize, Alphard. I know you're upset and you have reason to be. You're right—since coming here I've been negligent, to and fro classes and during meals is not enough. But I'll make it up to you," said Hadrian. "I only have the time before Quidditch practice free tomorrow. After that, we'll have to work something out."

More movement, this time with much rustling of clothing, like the two of them had come together. Tom was getting frustrated that he could see nothing and decided that he would have to make his entrance soon. There was only a minute before the exact time of their meeting. A long silence stretched on in which Tom started to wonder what was happening behind the corner.

Pushing off the wall he was leaning against, Tom straightened up and put on a blank expression. When he rounded the corner, he wasn't as prepared for what he saw as he had thought he would be.

Okay, sure, they were only cousins and most cousins he'd seen hugged, except he also knew the feelings Alphard so obviously harbored for Hadrian. But he should really make it clear to Alphard that no one touched what was _his_!

He stood there for only a second when they noticed him and separated. Alphard blushed lightly upon seeing him and Hadrian stiffened, the expression on his face becoming completely incomprehensible.

"Tom, uh, evening," stammered Alphard.

"Evening." Tom only barely kept himself from sneering.

"I'll be on my way, then," Alphard announced, looking awkward but slowly regaining his customary blithe composure. "I'll be seeing you. Good night, Hadrian, Tom."

He walked past Tom before either of them had the chance to return the farewell. Tom and Hadrian listened to his muffled footsteps until they could hear no more. Hadrian promptly turned away to get into the room. Irritated with the way he was being treated, Tom followed him in once he went through the door that appeared.

It was set up differently from the way the room was when they met. Instead of the long couch with the table in front of it on the left side of the room, now there were two leather armchairs facing one another with a round table in-between them. Either Hadrian had consciously asked for the distance or his need to be away from Tom had reflected itself in the room. Of course, neither of the possibilities was to Tom's liking and he took the armchair facing the door with a scowl.

Deciding not to call to attention the way Hadrian was acting, Tom placed his bag on the table, wordlessly opening it. As he laid out their work, he thought about what he could do to make Hadrian more responsive. This had happened before, after all—at the beginning of October. And hadn't _he_ been the one to bring Hadrian out of his funk? Dueling had been the solution then and, surely, it could do no worse now.

Mind made up, Tom began contributing to their project earnestly, hoping that they may finish early and that he could have the time to draw his partner into another duel. He doubted Hadrian wanted to stay away from him so much so that he would turn down a duel. It seemed to be the one thing that really got him excited enough to loosen up.

About an hour and a half later, Tom was pleased to note that Hadrian was relaxing without having to be drawn into a duel. The stiff way he had been situated in his seat wasn't as evident. He had even begun to show the facial expressions and idle actions Tom had initially noticed he made whenever he happened to be concentrating. Like the way he pursed his lips, furrowed his brows, or—Tom's personal favorite—absentmindedly tugged on the tips of his long hair.

Hadrian was presently doing exactly that while he worked on the mechanics of their ward breaking. It certainly wasn't easy to try to come up with a way to get past wards on Unplottable locations, especially within the time frame they had given themselves. But Tom did so enjoy watching Hadrian struggle through it—with all his other problems set to the side.

Tom was jogged out of his train of thought when a soft sigh came from his partner. Hadrian put down his quill and combed his hands through the sides of his hair, in a delicate manner that was careful not to draw attention to his forehead or show where his scar was located.

"Problems?" Tom queried much more casually than he would have done so to most others.

Hadrian's hands froze in their movements and he glanced up at Tom as if he'd only then remembered the other was there. The very prospect annoyed Tom more than he could begin to express. Hadrian blinked slowly and took his hands out of his hair.

"No; no trouble. It's only a little more difficult than I had originally thought," replied Hadrian.

Tom, who had his right ankle crossed over his left knee, let his leg down and leaned forward in his seat. "Would you like to take a break?" he asked, trying to make his voice sympathetic but failing anyway.

Hadrian looked over at him in surprise. He probably hadn't expected Tom to be so considerate. He was right, of course. Tom didn't think he'd be capable of even pretending to be so. This, however, was part of his plan.

"Yes. That would be nice," Hadrian said lightly. Setting down his quill, he leaned back in his seat, at ease.

Tom waited a moment, then suggested, "How about a duel?"

The look on Hadrian's face, Tom could read easily. It was one of disbelieve, as if he couldn't believe Tom had the audacity to ask him that after what had happened Tuesday. Tom had the sudden urge to laugh.

"A duel…" Hadrian repeated slowly.

He was thoughtful for a while and Tom considered that he might refuse. That wouldn't bode well at all. The situation would be worse than he had thought if Hadrian turned down a duel.

But his worries were alleviated when Hadrian said, "All right. Why not?"

Tom stood up from his seat, hiding his excitement, and requested the room for their standard dueling stand. Hadrian followed him, tying his hair up with that leather band of his that Tom so desperately wanted to burn after Zabini's filthy hands had touched it.

Giving no illusions to Hadrian as to what type of duel this would be, Tom started it off by throwing a powerful Blasting Curse. Hadrian easily moved out of the way, his expression changing from aloof to determined. He sent back an Entrail-Expelling Curse, which Tom had no problem avoiding.

They lost track of time as they continued to duel this way. The room bounced off the bright colors of their spells as they illuminated everything. Sharp, harsh cracks echoed off the walls from the sound of powerful curses being exchanged back and forth.

Deciding to up the ante, Tom released a spell he had been practicing ever since he had read it from the book—_Curses and Wards of the Ancient World—_Hadrian had let him borrow. His opponent stiffened, holding up his wand in preparation and Tom knew he recognized the wand movements.

At his command, dozens of undead creatures filled the room. They were wraith-like in appearance and shadows clung to them, trailing behind them in wisps. A rancid smell followed their appearance, like that of decaying flesh. Tattered cloaks hung from their form and, if Tom hadn't known better, he would have mistaken them for dementors. They had certainly brought along a feeling of despair with them.

The significant difference between these creatures and dementors were that they were much more intelligent. Although they obeyed him, they were powerful and clever and knew how to go about their commands in the most efficient way.

Tom was exceptionally satisfied with his work, even if he felt a bit drained. He hadn't been too sure that he would be able to conjure so many but judging from the look on Hadrian's face, he was thoroughly frustrated with how many there were.

A plus to these creatures was that they could not be controlled as easily as his _**Enchantress **_had been. (Something that still put Tom off every time he recalled it—that had been his favorite Parselspell, dammit! Learning that one of the Shadow abilities was possession was the only upside to the whole ordeal.) Unless Hadrian was particularly fond of feeling as though he were swimming in the filthiest, most poisonous taint in the world, he wouldn't even dare to try.

The idea didn't seem to be crossing the ebony-haired boy's mind, however. The creatures were moving in on him, their ill intent clear as the shadows disconnected from them and traveled creepily along the stand toward their unfortunate enemy. Tom watched on, communicating orders to quickly subdue the boy by any means possible, thinking how amusingly ironic it was that Hadrian would be brought down by the very things he controlled.

Hadrian was all determined poise as he threw small blasts of raw power at offending toxic shadows that came his way. Yet, the creatures were not to be deterred. They got closer to their lone challenger, coils of black, deadly energy suddenly passing between them. Tom was fascinated by it all and gazed on in interest as they formed groups of four. The small currents became large balls of energy filled with so much magic, Tom could feel it in his teeth.

Tom hadn't ever seen them do anything like this but Hadrian seemed to have as he was already preparing for a counterattack. His lips were moving frantically, as was his wand. Seeing this, Tom urged the _Creatures of the Undead_ to hurry up.

Then, Tom felt a pull on his mind and magic, one meant to attract his attention. It wasn't very strong so he had no problem batting it away. He realized it wasn't targeted for him when the creatures faltered from their task. The forceful magic that had come from their balls dwindled and he no longer felt its overwhelming presence.

Once Hadrian had their full attention and the creatures were looking at him, his wand began moving differently, with jerky motions in the air, as though he were drawing something there. Tom's guess proved to be right when a glowing, black symbol appeared before Hadrian. Tom acknowledged it as the ankh, the ancient Egyptian hieroglyph symbolizing life.

He had read in the book that when the ankh was black, instead of white, it would mean the opposite of what it usually did. Thus, he wasn't as surprised as he thought he would be when the undead creatures turned their magic on one another and began slaying each other. Though disappointed that his beautiful work had been subverted, Tom found the whole process morbidly beguiling, especially since Hadrian was looking agreeably flushed from the exertion of so much magic fueled into two spells.

Both winded and feeling a bit drained, they paused to take a breather. A second later, they were intently at it again in a fashion that might have been seen as showing off to the other by would-be onlookers. Their spells got more complicated and strenuous. Tom used the duel to try out more spells he had been practicing from _Curses and Wards of the Ancient World_, among others. Hadrian gave as good as he got.

The suggested break was no longer an excuse to be doing this as time flew by. The duel was even longer than the one they'd had Tuesday. Finally, Tom's defeat came in the form of a fast petrification. Almost before he was aware of it, he was turned into stone. Frozen in the position of trying to get up a shield though he was, he could still see everything that went on so it must not have been a full petrification.

The spell was familiar to him as it was advanced Dark Magic and he made it a point to be well versed in that. What he didn't understand was the horror-struck look on Hadrian's face. The boy was making no move towards him. He was just standing there, wand hand limp at his side and staring at Tom's petrified figure as though it embodied his every nightmare.

Tom wondered what was wrong with him but had no time to contemplate it as he was suddenly released and had to move quickly to keep upright. He stood up straight once he was balanced to address Hadrian, but the boy had already fled the room without so much as a whisper.

_What the hell is going on with him? _he thought in wonderment.

**000**

Friday morning found Alphard running late to breakfast. After leaving Hadrian and Tom, he had stayed up all night thinking (but actually using that as an excuse to wait for Hadrian's return). Everyone in the dorm had come to bed and his cousin was still nowhere to be seen.

By three in the morning, Hadrian hadn't come to bed and Alphard had gotten too drowsy to stay awake any longer. With his lack of sleep, he ended up waking late this morning and knew he wouldn't get to sit next to Hadrian.

A corridor away from the Great Hall, he stopped and walked at a more dignified pace. Most people thought he was sorely lacking in etiquette but he just chose not to implement it sometimes. Even he was not so remiss as to run into a hall full of people, however.

To his pleasant surprise, upon entering the Great Hall and heading for the Slytherin table, Alphard found that his cousin was seated after Flavius. Once again, his countenance was cause for concern. It was so closed off and steely that anyone could guess something was off. Alphard was even more convinced that he should have a talk with him.

Coming to his spot at the table, Alphard requested Flavius for a trade. Before he consented, Flavius's eyes found Tom's and Alphard—realizing too late what he had done—also looked in that direction. Tom tilted his head just so in acquiescence and his gaze held Alphard's, conveying a message that was all too clear to the Black: _Find out what's wrong with him and report to me immediately. _

Alphard could understand Tom's interest in Hadrian, but, he mused as he sat down, he could not grasp why Tom seemed to be failing in capturing him. The longest it had taken him was two weeks and that had only been because Antonin had been very close to his cousin, Cassius—much closer than Anastius had been to his own brother. But, now, Antonin was among his most favored, right after Renatus. Hadrian's case was going on three months now.

Not that he was too disappointed by that. Actually, he was rather happy Hadrian hadn't fallen into Tom's thrall. Alphard wasn't stupid; far from it. He'd noticed Tom's increasing interest in Hadrian and he could not forget that Hadrian himself wasn't innocent in this. He'd heard the rumors—even if both boys were completely oblivious to them—and he'd seen it for himself. There was an unmitigated attraction between them.

He wasn't a Slytherin for no reason. As much as he respected and deferred to Tom, his love for Hadrian was nonnegotiable. He would not sit by and waste this obvious rift between them when he could be capitalizing on it.

"Hadrian?" Alphard spoke tentatively, so as not to startle him (the boy didn't seem to be aware of anything).

Hadrian turned shuttered green eyes on him and Alphard kept in a shiver. He did not like the dullness in those usually beautiful, brilliant eyes and, not for the first time, wondered what had happened between his cousin and Tom (though judging from the Slytherin heir's desire to know what was wrong, he himself did not know what had caused this behavior).

"Yes, Alphard?" Hadrian asked, his voice, thankfully, still soft and music to Alphard's ears.

Alphard was aware of people watching them. He leaned in closer and dropped his voice, "What's wrong? Why are you so upset?"

"I'm not upset," Hadrian said and, at Alphard's scowl, continued, "I'm confused. Very, very confused."

Alphard's brows furrowed in confusion as well. "Why?"

Hadrian glanced away from him and Alphard knew he would not get any more out of him. Maybe he should have waited to ask him some place more private. With a quiet sigh, Alphard began on his breakfast, deciding to coax more out of his cousin when they would meet before he went to practice.

Throughout the rest of the day, Alphard heard the rumors he'd been hearing all week. Hadrian and Tom _this_, Hadrian and Cassius _that_…. Frankly, he was getting quite tired of it all. By now, it should have been clear to all boys involved that they were being gossiped about fervently.

He found it amazing that it had been kept a secret from Tom, of all people, for so long. Hadrian himself had always been aware of everything around him. Well, except for his suitors. For some reason, he'd never been particularly good at spotting that kind of thing.

When the time to meet with his cousin came later on, an hour before dinner, Hadrian suggested they take a walk outside after seeing how packed the common room was. Happy with this turn of events, Alphard hurried to his dorm to get his cloak while Hadrian waited for him, his own dark green, golden trimmed cloak with his family crest on the breast already clipped on.

Upon finding his black cloak, Alphard slipped it around his shoulders and went back up to the common room. To his dismay and great annoyance, his brother, Cygnus, and cousin, Orion, now joined Hadrian. Could he not get Hadrian to himself a moment?

"Actually, I'd like to spend some time with just Alphard now," Hadrian was saying as Alphard came up to them. "I'll make some time for the both of you as well—if you want."

"I want to!" Orion piped in, looking joyful at the mere prospect.

"Okay. We can work something out later," Hadrian said patiently.

Alphard beamed at him in gratitude. "All right. We have to get going before dinner. See you later," he said hastily, taking Hadrian's arm and pulling him along towards the entrance.

Hadrian chuckled at him when they got into the hallway and started moving down the corridor. "What's the hurry?"

Alphard shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. "You know them. Once they get started, they won't stop. Orion looked on the verge of insisting upon coming."

"Want me all to yourself?" Hadrian asked, laughter glinting in his eyes.

_Merlin, you have no idea_. Alphard wished he could say it without fear of scaring him off but he only laughed it off.

They walked in comfortable silence until they reached the dungeon staircase to the Entrance Hall.

"Let's go to the lake," proposed Hadrian, already walking to the entrance.

Alphard strode along, starting to get a bit giddy about the whole thing. After two months, he'd begun to think he wouldn't have a chance alone with Hadrian until winter break. Then, the family always spent a day at Black Manor for Yuletide celebrations.

He and Hadrian's rooms were adjacent and, back when they were younger, they had used to stay up past curfew to talk late into the night. He really missed those days. Alphard had thought they could only get closer after Hadrian's transfer, but he'd certainly been proven wrong.

The cold air of the November night brought Alphard out of his reminiscent thoughts. Hadrian turned south in the direction of the lake and Alphard followed, digging his hands deeper into his pockets to keep out the chill.

"It's colder than I thought," Hadrian said with a shiver.

He tightened his cloak around himself and Alphard wanted nothing more to do than hold him and keep him warm. His cousin had never had a high tolerance for the cold. He was actually surprised Hadrian had wanted to go outside.

"We can go back inside. I don't really mind," said Alphard.

Hadrian shook his head. "No. I'd like some fresh air. We won't be out here for too long, anyway; dinner's in only an hour."

Alphard dropped it, not wanting to point out that Hadrian would get plenty of air during practice. He didn't care where it was, he was just happy to spend time with Hadrian.

When they reached the lake, they cleared the bench close by and sat down. Alphard sat as close as he could without actually touching Hadrian. His cousin, as usual, didn't appear to notice. A moment of silence ensued in which they observed the serenity of the lake. Hadrian leaned back in his seat, wrapping his cloak tighter around himself.

"What did you want to talk about?" Hadrian asked, turning vivid green eyes that seemed to glow in the dark on him.

"Well, nothing in particular," Alphard lied.

He knew Hadrian wouldn't believe him and he was counting on it. He didn't want to hound him for information so, with any luck, this would prompt Hadrian into talking if he brought it up himself.

Hadrian looked away from him and was momentarily silent. "You asked about Cassius," he spoke hesitantly. "It's not so much that I'm avoiding him as I'm giving us some space."

Alphard didn't understand. "Why?"

"Let's see…how do I explain this?" Hadrian mused, facing him once again. "I told you it wasn't serious, remember?"

Alphard remembered, all right. He'd almost been crushed that day upon seeing them together. Of course, he'd heard rumors that they were shagging but he'd refused to believe it before then. Then Hadrian had reassured him and his hopes had been lifted.

"Yes."

"Well," Hadrian continued in a regrettable tone, "for Cassius, it's much more serious than I'd thought."

"So that's why you're avoiding him?" Alphard asked, almost incredulously, and feeling bad for the Zabini heir. He didn't know what he'd do if that were him.

"Giving us space," Hadrian corrected lightly. "And that's not all of it. I cannot return his feelings and I don't want to string him along. Better that he know now than wait until his emotions develop into something deeper and I end up hurting him."

Alphard doubted Cassius's feelings could get any deeper than they already were, but Hadrian's logic made an odd sort of sense. He'd hate to get his hopes so high only to find out later that he'd never had a chance. It really aggravated him that Hadrian was so oblivious to how much others adored and loved him. But, though he felt sorry for the predicament Cassius was in, Alphard couldn't deny that it increased his chances.

"Did you have sex with him?" Alphard asked tentatively, hoping he hadn't gone too far.

But Hadrian only laughed, low and cadenced. "What do you think?"

Alphard stared at him in surprise, thinking how uncharacteristic of Hadrian this was. "Yes?" he ventured.

Hadrian smiled at him but didn't confirm his guess. He glanced over to the lake and said, "I hear there's a giant squid in there."

Unperturbed by the change in topic, Alphard replied, "Yeah. No one's seen it but some people claim there is one and others think it's just a myth. Personally, I think the squid is there."

"Of course you do," Hadrian said with quiet mirth.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Alphard asked.

"No offense, cousin, but you are forever an idealist. I did always like that about you," responded Hadrian.

Alphard took no offense because he knew it was true. Besides, if Hadrian liked that about him, who was he to complain?

He glanced down when he heard a crunch and saw Hadrian crushing the leaves and rocks under his feet as he bounced his legs a little. Alphard assumed it was to keep warm.

"Are you cold?" he asked. "Let's go inside."

Hadrian stopped shaking his legs. He brought out his wand and waved it around them. Alphard was filled with warmth from the tip of his toes to his fingers.

"I did say we could talk all you wanted and I don't go back on my promises," Hadrian said firmly. "There's still plenty of time left before dinner."

"All right," Alphard said, thankful. "Earlier, you said you were confused."

Hadrian's face became instantly guarded. "I don't want to talk about that."

"If not me, who are you going to talk to, Hadrian?" Alphard pushed. "I'm only trying to help."

"Alphard, please drop it. There's some things I just don't wish to speak about, especially when I'm not sure about them myself," Hadrian said.

Alphard let it go. He knew he was lucky that Hadrian had even told him that much and was willing to talk to him about most anything he cared to ask. "Okay. I won't ask you again," he relented.

Hadrian nodded. "Thank you."

"So," Alphard prompted, "how was Cassius?"

Hadrian, astounded, threw back his head and laughed. Alphard smiled at getting that reaction out of him. He was probably the only one who had ever made him laugh so loud. It just wasn't Hadrian to raise his voice.

"Oh, I've missed you, Alphard. You haven't changed one bit," Hadrian professed, laughter still in his voice.

"I've missed you, too," admitted Alphard.

He scarcely kept the yearning out of his voice.

**000**

"Finally," Abraxas Malfoy said in relief, "I was beginning to think he would never smile again."

Tom glanced at him in question. "What are you talking about?"

Abraxas jerked his head in the direction behind them. Tom twisted around in his seat to see. Hadrian and Alphard were coming to dinner three minutes late and Tom had to agree; he hadn't seen Hadrian smiling like that for the past week. If they hadn't been surrounded by so many people, Tom thought he might have even laughed out loud at what his cousin was saying.

Tom turned back around to his dinner, irked beyond belief by the whole thing. Here, Hadrian was ignoring him and Alphard was taking advantage of the situation. He had to hand it to him, though. He'd wondered at times what made the boy a Slytherin.

"Good evening," Hadrian greeted everyone politely as he sat to Alphard's right, which put the gray-eyed Black across from Tom.

"Good evening," Abraxas returned. "You seem to be in a better mood."

Hadrian looked at the boy across from him. "I wasn't aware I had been in a bad mood," he murmured with a small frown.

Abraxas simply raised a blond brow in return.

Tom tuned out the rest of the chatter to think about Alphard's unexpected initiative. It certainly could not be allowed to continue. He would have to make it clear to Alphard that he tolerated no challengers. What he wanted, he got—anyone in his way be damned.

Dinner came to an end without his realizing. He stood to leave with his fellow Slytherins but Alphard impeded his progress when the boy came before him. Tom lifted a brow at his audacity. Didn't he know this kind of thing could get him hexed?

"Tom, I wish to speak with you, if you please." Alphard said, his eyes downcast but his body positioned in a way that rubbed Tom wrong.

The boy garnered attention to himself and Slytherins lagged behind to see what would happen, Hadrian among them. Tom threw them an annoyed glance. He swept his hand dismissively and they all began to clear out of the Great Hall with the rest of the school.

Of course, since when had Hadrian ever listened to him? The long-haired boy gave his cousin an inquisitive look instead of leaving.

"Alphard?"

"I'll just be a moment," Alphard said, a stupid look of happiness on his face.

Completely ignoring Tom, Hadrian nodded and left the hall. Before Tom had a chance to be bothered by that, Alphard faced him once again, an expression of determination set upon his face.

Tom looked back expectantly. "Do you wish to tell me your report on Hadrian's odd behavior?"

Alphard's determination left to be replaced with confusion. He blinked, as if he had forgotten all about this morning. Tom didn't doubt that he had, so lost had the boy been in his cousin.

"No. I'd forgotten about that, actually. Forgive me," Alphard said contritely.

"Then I suggest you get on with it," Tom replied, moving to cross his arms imperiously.

Alphard fidgeted for a second, a movement that suggested he knew what he was going to say was not going to be liked. "From what I gather, nothing seems to be wrong with him."

_Liar._

Tom didn't need his natural ability to know when one was lying or his Legilimency to tell Alphard was bullshitting him. He absolutely _hated_ liars.

Narrowing his eyes, Tom hissed, "From what you gather? Why don't you tell me exactly what he said? And, this time, I do not want to hear you lie to me."

The pureblood boy winced, knowing he was lucky to still be standing there. "He's confused but refuses to tell me why."

Tom became thoughtful and tried to figure out why Hadrian would be confused. Could it be because of their charged duels? Maybe Hadrian was going through the same thing he was—surely, he couldn't be the only one getting aroused from that. But why would that be confusing? Tom himself had accepted it, though he'd been more than miffed at first. It was perfectly natural and quite unavoidable when their magic was so well-matched.

"Lord Voldemort?"

He laid his thoughts to rest and regarded Alphard again. "Was there something more you hoped to say?"

"Yes. I-I…." Alphard shifted nervously. "I wanted to ask you something."

Tom briefly enjoyed it while the usually carefree boy squirmed but quickly became tired of it. "Well, what are you waiting for? I do not have all day."

"Of course; my apologies," the Black boy said, clearing his throat and straightening more confidently. "Are you interested in Hadrian?"

The sheer impudence of the question struck Tom momentarily speechless. He kept it off his face but Alphard must have sensed his reaction anyway because his expression turned to one of horror. He immediately began stuttering apologies that Tom ignored.

Never had one of his Slytherins dared to cross their limits in this way. That Alphard had been the first to do so was no big surprise. He positively could not let him get away with such an insult.

Tom stepped closer to Alphard and stood over him menacingly. His magic sprawled out of him effortlessly in response to his anger. Vaguely, he could even hear the tables rattling.

"You have severely forgotten your place, Alphard. Three infractions in one night is inexcusable and this, especially, is not something I will overlook," he snarled, his hands tightening around his wand with the need to Cruciate the fool if only he could get away with it within Hogwarts's wards.

Tom settled for a tempered Dark version of the Cruciatus that the wards overlooked. Alphard gasped and fell back, his scream getting stuck in his throat and coming out as more of a choking sound. Then he fell to the floor, clawing himself, and Tom just barely managed to erect a Silencing Charm before his shouts rent the air. The screams sent a rush through Tom and he heightened the power behind the spell to make them louder.

After about a minute and a half, Tom released him from the spell. Alphard wheezed but, commendably enough, quickly and shakily got to his feet. Tom smirked satisfactorily, causing Alphard to flinch and look away.

He leaned close and whispered, "As it so happens, Alphard, I am incredibly interested in your cousin and I would very much like to see what you dare to do about that."

The rebellious flicker in Alphard's gray eyes made him want to perform the spell on him again. Tom sneered at him, turned away, and walked out of the hall.

So, this was a man in love. _Pathetic._

**000**

"A love triangle between who?" Sebastian MacMillan reared back in shock as his best friend, Harrison Potter, roared with laughter.

"Shh!" Maeva Connolly hushed them as others in the library turned to the disturbance. "Do you want us to get kicked out?"

Harrison only laughed harder, gasping for breath as he said, "That—is—absolutely—_the_—most—ridiculous—thing—I—have—ever—heard."

"No it isn't! It makes perfect sense. You must be blind if you have not noticed it," Maeva defended, becoming a bit put out at the reaction she was getting to the first gossip she had been sent to spread.

"_We_ must be blind? Really, Maeva, where did you come up with the idea that Riddle, Hadrian, and Alphard are in a love triangle? This is the same Head Boy _Tom_ _Riddle_ we are speaking of, yes?" Sebastian asked, giving her a look that showed clearly how much truth he found in this.

Maeva pouted at his obvious doubt and Harrison's continued giggling. "I'm not kidding you. Haven't you seen it? Hadrian's been avoiding Riddle since Tuesday and who's been spending a lot of time with him lately?"

Sebastian reached up to rub the bridge of his nose, sighing exasperatingly. "They're _cousins_. That's what most cousins do."

"I know that!" Maeva cried in annoyance, causing people to glance their way again.

"You might want to quiet down before you get us kicked out," Harrison pointed out, his eyes full of mirth.

Maeva scowled at the sixth-year boys and was just about getting ready to really argue her point when Dalilah stepped into the library with Aileas. Dalilah came around to her side of the circular table and stood behind her chair as she surveyed the two boys.

"I tell you hot new gossip and these two are the first ones you decide to share it with? Do you not know MacMillan over there is related to the Blacks and close to our dear French transfer?" Dalilah asked. She tutted in disappointment. "Come, Maeva, darling; you still have much to learn."

The redhead stood up and gathered her books, doing her admirable best to ignore both Harrison and Sebastian's laughter as she left the library. She may not be great yet but she couldn't be that bad. Besides, plenty of people had heard her in the library, as much as she'd tried to keep her voice down.

Yes, she was positive the news would be all over the school before the match tomorrow.

**000**

Upon waking Saturday morning, Hadrian was filled with a complete calm that he hadn't felt much at all in the last week. Practice last night had gone well. The team had adjusted to Anastius's rigorous training the past week in preparation for the match.

His mind was clear now; free of all the clutter it had been crammed with. Including all the confusion surrounding his—nonexistent!—attraction to Tom. As a matter of fact, Alphard had been great help in getting his mind off it.

Once upon a time, he'd been real close to his cousin. Without siblings, cousins were all he had and Alphard, Abraxas, and Julius were the only ones his age. Alphard was obviously more open and easier to get along with. More than Abraxas, Hadrian had built a close relationship with him.

The Harry within him could not stop making parallels between Alphard and Sirius. The two were very alike. Sirius had been more of an older brother and friend than a parental figure to him and their personalities were alike. They even had the same length hair, though Alphard's was only slightly shorter.

That was why he'd let Alphard get away with pestering him for information. Anytime he wasn't his usually happy self, Hadrian wanted to eliminate the cause. And he'd felt absolutely terrible when Alphard had suggested he was being neglected. Hadrian imagined Sirius wouldn't have liked that the uncle who had helped him in his time of need (albeit this only being his counterpart) was being overlooked in favor of the future Dark Lord.

Besides that, he hadn't been lying to Alphard. He'd really missed the way they used to just talk about anything they wanted. Especially now that his best friends were in an alternate universe, Hadrian had no one he would confide in. Of course, it would be a while before that happened but they could certainly be on the track to being like that again.

As he tended to nowadays, Hadrian came to breakfast later than he'd used to. He made sure a good number of people were at the Slytherin table so as not to be left alone with Tom. Cowardly, maybe, but he did not want to take the chance of reliving the feeling he'd had Thursday after petrifying Tom.

Who the hell felt like their heart was being squeezed and their breath was leaving after defeating their opponent? Well, he'd always been the exception, hadn't he? Upon seeing Tom turned to stone looking so vulnerable and easily hurt, he'd just frozen up, feeling as if he were falling headfirst into a chasm and it hadn't been Tom who had been powerless but him.

Hadrian shook his head to dispel his thoughts. Thinking about this brought it all back and made him even more confused. He would have preferred his old, simple hatred for Tom back to this.

The Great Hall was abuzz when he got there. The noise rising when he entered could not have been imagined. Guessing that they must be talking about seeing him in the game today, he walked to his table. Alphard was already there when Hadrian took the seat to his right.

"Morning, Hadrian," Alphard greeted with a large grin. "Nervous about the match?"

"Not at all," Hadrian replied truthfully.

Before, he had never been able to eat before the Slytherin-Gryffindor game but now he had no problem reaching for his breakfast.

"Not even a little?" Alphard asked. "Usually new players are sweating before their first game. Just look at Spavin over there."

Hadrian glanced to his left in the direction of where the fourth years sat. Their team's new Chaser, Dimitris Spavin, could hardly bring himself to do anything but sparingly drink from his cup and look around anxiously at all the excited students. At least he wasn't getting any flak from the Gryffindors.

Laughing lightly, Hadrian turned back to his equally amused cousin. "I am faring much better than he. I am actually excited for the match."

Alphard barked a laugh and Hadrian caught himself comparing him to Sirius again. "Only you can say that looking to the contrary. How about showing a little more enthusiasm?"

"What are you girls talking about—love triangle?"

For the first time since entering, Hadrian looked where Tom was sitting. Lestrange's outburst had caused most of the table to turn that way, in fact. He was giving Jezebel, who sat to his right, a revolted look and the ebony-haired girl eyed him back disapprovingly. Across from them, Adelina was frowning deeply at Lestrange.

"Do calm down, Renatus," Jezebel chided softly, though there was an underlying of disdain in her voice.

Even Tom was scowling at his right-hand now. "Correct your behavior, Renatus, or I will be forced to do it for you," he hissed lowly.

Lestrange, upon realizing most eyes were on him, appeared regretful as he addressed the table, "My apologies. I did not mean to interrupt your meal."

Hadrian wondered what had caused him to act that way in the middle of all these people. He could guess it most likely had to do with Tom. Lestrange tended to become erratic whenever Tom was involved.

"Hadrian, let's go! I want to get a little practice in before the game!" Anastius was behind him, more energetic than he usually was, as hard as that was to believe.

"Now?" Hadrian asked.

"I want to get there before the Gryffindors get it into their head to practice, too. Besides, this will be good for some of the players. Dimitris will be more confident and relaxed, at any rate," Anastius reasoned, forking a thumb in the fourth year's direction.

"Let him finish his breakfast, at least," Alphard argued.

Hadrian sighed and stood up. "It's okay. I'm not very hungry, anyway."

"That's the spirit!" Anastius cried earnestly, slapping him on the back. "We'll meet you out on the pitch!"

Hadrian shook his head at the boy, thinking that he might even rival Oliver Wood in his obsession with the game. He only hoped his speeches weren't anything like Oliver's.

"I'll go with you," Alphard offered as Hadrian made to follow his captain. "If you want, that is."

Hadrian couldn't believe he was still insecure about something like this after last night. Even so, he reassured him with a smile, "Yeah. That would be great, Alphard. Thank you."

Alphard beamed at him in return. "You're welcome."

Many people wished Hadrian luck on their way out. He could even see Cassius trying to catch his eye as he walked the space between his side of the Slytherin table and Cassius's side of the Ravenclaw table. Feeling a little bad, he avoided eye contact entirely.

Any hidden nerves Hadrian had were totally gone by the time the game was set to begin after lunch. He had none of his pregame jitters, not even through Anastius's speech, which had turned out to be different from Oliver's only in that it was filled with a number of veiled threats. He was more than ready for this game and it had the added benefit of keeping his mind off certain people.

Upon hearing a loud cheer, he knew the Gryffindors had entered the pitch. He gripped his broom firmly and waited for their announcement.

"And now the Slytherins!"

Hadrian and his teammates quickly mounted their brooms and streaked out into the pitch. They'd gotten a chance to gauge the weather during their little practice so they were better prepared for the harsh cold that hit them when they took to the air.

"Leading them is their new captain, Chaser Anastius Zabini!" the commentator, a fifth year Hufflepuff boy, filled in as the team circled the pitch and took their positions. "Let's not forget the player everyone has been eagerly waiting to see in action, their Seeker Hadrian Black! Also new this year is Chaser Dimitris Spavin! Returning for the team for his second year is Chaser Calum Harper, for their third year are Keeper Argyros Filch and Beater Edric Ollerton, and for his fourth is Beater Royce Wilkes!"

Hadrian tuned out the rest of his comments as he watched Anastius and Harrison meet in midair to shake hands. They both had looks of utter determination on their face and long glares were exchanged between them. Their Quidditch instructor, Thaddeus Wenlock, released the balls and blew his whistle to begin the game.

Hadrian saw the Golden Snitch as it fluttered out of its box but lost it once it flew into the air. He and the Gryffindor Seeker, Victor Sylvanus, steered in the direction of where the Snitch disappeared. It was not to be visible again, however. When they could not sight it, they went separate ways to continue looking for it.

Above the Slytherin goal post is where Hadrian decided to hover and search for the elusive Snitch. He also had a clear view of the game. As all Slytherin-Gryffindor matches had the propensity to be rather intense, Hadrian immensely enjoyed watching it despite the decrease in speed he was unused to. At the same time, though, he had to watch out for countless Bludgers thrown his way and the other Seeker's progress with finding the Snitch.

"Potter scores again! Gryffindor leads 90-50!"

It was somewhat strange to hear that name on the Quidditch pitch and know it was meant for someone else. Hadrian could see how livid Anastius was even from his position. His captain had worked very hard to be able to beat Harrison in this game and it seemed that wasn't proving to be enough.

Realizing it might be up to him in the end, Hadrian put in more of an effort to find the Snitch. Soon enough, Sylvanus took to following him around wherever he went. Instead of feeling annoyed about it, Hadrian used this to entertain himself and help his team.

He led the boy through the center of the game to hinder the Gryffindor team's advancement. This actually succeeded in getting Slytherin enough to be only twenty points behind. Then the boy followed him through a plunge to the ground and did not catch on until just in time that he had been tricked.

But Hadrian's enjoyment ended when the bite of the frigid air got to him before everyone else. He'd noticed that he was much more susceptible to the cold after the merge and he was resenting it at the moment. He was seriously freezing his arse off!

Not liking his odds of lasting up here, Hadrian's only focus became the Snitch. Sylvanus was more wary of him now and so did not tail him everywhere. Which was a good thing as Hadrian spotted a glint of gold by the teacher's stand and Sylvanus just happened to be close by.

Using the air around him, he Obscured himself—one of the first and simplest Shadow techniques. It was much like the Disillusionment Charm except that it wasn't detectable when one moved. It even served the purpose of making one think something was in the opposite direction.

He moved fast, going so far as to let some of his Firebolt's true speed come out. With ease, he navigated past the players and reached the other side of the field. He dived down and released control of the Shadows at the last minute. As expected, Sylvanus was surprised into following him this time.

"It looks like Black has sighted the Snitch and Sylvanus is going after him!" the commentator shouted excitedly, immediately attracting everyone's attention and causing a roar to resound around the pitch. "Remember the Snitch is worth 150 points! The Seeker that catches it will have won for their team!"

Hadrian swooped back around before they got too close to the ground. He shot straight up with as much speed as his downgraded Firebolt could afford. Sylvanus was still on his tail, remarkably. He'd thought the boy would think it was another trick. Nonetheless, Hadrian was too far ahead for him to catch up. His broom's actions were much smoother and it was faster than whatever Sylvanus had.

Once he got back to where he had seen it first, he flew after the small ball. The Snitch seemed to want to make him work harder to catch it as it instantly flew out of his reach. Hadrian held back a curse when it flew down and closer to the other Seeker.

He whirled his broom around and immediately went after it. His broom was moving the fastest it could, plummeting after both Sylvanus and the Snitch. At that speed, it wasn't very hard to catch up to the Gryffindor or to pass him by.

The Snitch stayed on its course and didn't deviate unexpectedly so Hadrian had an easy time of keeping up with it. With it mere inches from him, Hadrian reached out his hand and closed it around the struggling ball. He slowed down his broom and held up the Snitch for all to see with a grin.

"Black has caught the Snitch! Slytherin wins, 260 to 140!"

A deafening cheer came from the Slytherin stand. Hadrian landed and, before he knew it, he was being bowled over by Anastius. He fell with a grunt and softly landed on his back, dropping the Snitch in the process.

"You did it! We won!" his captain exclaimed, his arms tightening around Hadrian's neck in a vise grip.

The rest of the team was behind them looking amused at their captain's behavior.

"You might want to let me go if you don't want Jezebel to see you like this," Hadrian muttered.

Almost as if burnt, Anastius released him and jumped up. Hadrian laughed and accepted the boy's hand in helping him up.

"Sorry about that," Anastius said sheepishly. "We haven't beaten Gryffindor in three years, I just got so excited."

"I'll say," Calum teased.

Anastius ignored their laughter and cried amid the shouts of their celebrating House, "Now we're going to party like never before!"

His enthusiasm soon caught on to everyone else. Hadrian couldn't walk a few inches without someone coming up to him and congratulating him. They were just a blur of faces consisting of people not just from his House. At some point, he thought he saw Harrison and Sebastian during the chaos but he really couldn't be too sure.

Hadrian reached the Slytherin common room with others in his House despite his best efforts to get to the locker rooms to wash up. It looked like the party had already begun and, when he and the team came in, a cheer rose in the room. While his teammates basked in their victory, he used the distraction to slip out of there and to his dorm.

To his surprise, however, his room wasn't as empty as he had believed it would be.

"Alphard? What are you doing in here?" he asked as he closed the door behind him and walked in.

Alphard stood in the center of the room, grinning broadly. "I knew you'd come here. You were never one for that much attention. Congratulations, by the way."

Hadrian rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. "If you know that, then you should know I've heard that a million times already and I'm tired of it."

"They won't say it but not many people had much faith in you. Some have seen you in action, sure, but they thought you couldn't be much better than Leopold since you're bigger," Alphard explained with a shrug. He moved to his bed and sat down. "They hadn't expected to beat Gryffindor, though."

"Anastius _was_ over the moon about that," Hadrian laughed.

He too went over to his bed and dropped his broom on top of it. He removed his robes first then proceeded to take off his sweater.

"Ugh, I need a shower," he groaned.

"So that's what that stench is," joked Alphard.

Hadrian stuck his tongue out at him. This drew a surprised look from Alphard, causing him to laugh. He knew it was uncharacteristic of the old Hadrian, who hadn't done something so childish since…well, since he was a child. He may have an equal amount of traits from both Harry and Hadrian but he wasn't above letting go in front of Alphard, probably the only one in his family who wasn't so anal about decorum.

"Wipe that look off your face, dear cousin; your resemblance to a fish is uncanny," he teased.

Hadrian slipped off his undershirt then threw the clothes he'd taken off into the dirty clothes hamper. He sat on his bed to take off his Quidditch shoes and threw the socks in the hamper as well. Getting up, he got out two fresh towels from his trunk. Draping the towels over his bare shoulders, he turned to address Alphard, whose eyes were glazed over for some reason.

"You don't have to be here while I take my shower. Why don't you celebrate with everyone else?" Hadrian suggested.

"Are you just going to hide out here all night?" Alphard asked skeptically.

He'd had half a mind to, actually, but he knew that, realistically, he wouldn't get away with it. Others would eventually know he was down here and come to bug him. But he really didn't want to run into Tom, especially during a party he was sure involved no inhibitions.

_Oh, stop whining. You'll have to see him sooner or later and face your shame._

_What? My shame? _Hadrian thought in confusion. _What __are you on about?_

_You _did _sleep with another boy, _the voice pointed out accusingly.

_So? What does that have to do with Tom? What business of his is it?_

_You disgust me._

Hadrian blinked in astonishment, not quite registering what he'd heard. What kind of bloody conscience was this? Was there someone messing around in his head again? As Voldemort was dead and he didn't have a connection with his counterpart…

…unless one counted how his scar acted up every time Tom touched him. And how magnetic their magic was to the other's.

If one considered those incidents, then the logical conclusion would be that this Tom _did_ have the same connection to him as the other world's Voldemort once had. So did that mean the voice was some kind of manipulative manifestation sent to him from Tom?

_You are so dense; I can hardly believe it. Where's the logic in that?_

_Then what the fuck are you? _Hadrian returned, almost completely freaked out by how sentient this thing in his head was.

_You're so set on pegging Tom as Voldemort that you can't look past your little ignorant, close-minded so-called truth to really see what's going on._ The voice was full of pity when it said this.

"Hadrian?" Alphard's voice seemed miles away.

Unfocused, Hadrian walked to the bathroom and called back, "No, I'm not. I'll be out shortly."

**000**

He despised parties like these. Proper deportment was thrown out the window and Slytherins themselves were reduced to nothing more than animals in heat. Tom could barely stand to sit among them. What really bothered him was that they acted this way because they had won some petty game.

Speaking of which, the _great hero_ who had made this possible was nowhere to be seen. The other Quidditch players were soaking up all the attention they could get. Dimitris was over there in the corner grinding into some fifth-year girl who would normally be out of his league.

"Tom, c'mon, dance with me!" Rosalina Parkinson swayed his way, clearly drunk out of her mind, and tried to grab his arm.

Tom glared at her icily and knocked away her hand. "Don't touch me, you filthy slut," he spat contemptuously.

She recoiled and quickly left his presence, taking that awful reek of alcohol with her. Why they opted for the cheap type when they could get the finest wines was beyond him.

Tom looked around dispassionately once again, searching for a sign of Hadrian. He supposed it was a good thing he didn't see him. He didn't know what he'd do if someone put their hands on him. Come to think of it, he couldn't see Alphard anywhere either.

Abruptly, he left his seat, intent on finding Alphard and making sure he wasn't with Hadrian. Unfortunately, as he was passing the entrance, his Head of House, who appeared much too tolerant about what his students were doing, waylaid him.

"Ah! Tom!" Slughorn cried over the loud music. "Just the man I was looking for!"

"Evening, sir," Tom greeted. "What can I do for you?"

"Where is Hadrian Black? I need to talk to the both of you," replied Slughorn.

"I have not seen him yet. What did you want to talk about, sir?" Tom asked curiously.

Slughorn looked around the common room then turned back to him. "I've heard much about him since his arrival and he seems quite popular with the students. He has friends from all the Houses and is becoming influential around here. I thought it would only be right that he has a place in the Slug Club."

Slughorn must think highly of Hadrian if he already wanted to induct him into his club. And, as he thought about it, Tom began to see the benefits of this. Neither Alphard nor Cassius Zabini were in the Slug Club.

"What do you need me for, sir?"

"Well, from what I hear, you are very close to the boy. I hoped that you could bring him along with you to tomorrow's supper and make him comfortable," Slughorn said with a self-satisfied smile.

_Very close? _What the hell did he mean by that? They were barely even friends (mostly because he didn't believe in _friends_). Where was he hearing this?

"I will do that, professor," Tom said anyway.

"Oh! There he is! Mr. Black!" Slughorn called, signaling over Tom's shoulder. "Come over here, please!"

Tom turned to look at who Slughorn was calling to. Both Hadrian and Alphard had just come up from the dorms and were heading over to them.

"Yes, sir?" they said simultaneously.

Slughorn laughed merrily like they'd told some grand joke. "Pardon me for the confusion. I meant Hadrian."

"Yes, sir?" Hadrian repeated.

"I was just telling Tom here that I wished you to join the Slug Club," Slughorn explained and did not go further, as if Hadrian should already know what it was.

"The Slug Club?"

"Tom can explain it to you in depth; I must really be going. I do hope you can join us tomorrow. Good evening, boys," Slughorn quickly excused himself and just as quickly left.

Tom noticed Hadrian was eyeing him suspiciously. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve that look. Alphard glanced between them.

"I'll leave you to it, then," he said.

Hadrian looked as though he'd rather be anywhere but alone with Tom. Not to say that they were alone as there were people on all sides of them. The pounding music and noise from the other Slytherins were the only things that filled the silence between them.

When he could take it no more, Tom said, "Professor Slughorn invites those he believes have the potential to become great or students who come from prominent families to the Slug Club. Occasionally, we have parties or suppers to get a chance to mingle and make connections with other members. If you are interested, you may come along with me to the supper tomorrow before dinner."

Tom inwardly winced at his choice of words. That had sounded a bit condescending, even for _him_. He may not be an expert on all that was Hadrian, but he'd learned enough to know that the boy would most likely find his own way to the Slug Club room now.

Hadrian smiled thinly. "Thank you. I'll think about it. Good evening."

Tom held in a frustrated sigh as the green-eyed boy turned away and was swiftly lost in the crowd. It seemed he would need to corner him to get anything out of him before long. That duel couldn't have done that much damage, could it?

From the corner of his eye, he spotted Hadrian now with Alphard in a secluded area by Tom's old room and _before long _became _as soon as fucking possible_.

**000**

He was dreaming and it wasn't any old dream. No, this was a special kind of dream.

"I apologized, did I not?" By the way Tom closed the door and was looking at him, he appeared anything but sorry.

Trying to contain his anger, Hadrian scowled from his place on the sofa in the wall niche. "You call that an apology, you smug bastard?"

Tom moved to the large Slytherin-green and silver-adorned bed and sat down after removing his robes. "It must have been enough if you are in here. Were you waiting long for me to return?"

Hadrian only just kept himself from exploding in anger. His hand itched to wrap around his wand and fire a lethal curse at him. Heck, forget magic; he would gladly curl his fingers around his neck instead. That would be a lot more satisfying.

Tom chuckled when he looked over at him. "Hadrian, I was only joking. You look about ready to kill."

"Your sense of humor leaves much to be desired," snarled Hadrian.

Tom rolled his eyes. "I do not understand why you must make a big deal of it. We had a little fight, I expressed my regret, and now it is in the past. This is much more simple than you are making it out to be."

"Oh, excuse me, I hadn't realized dueling was synonymous with apologizing," said Hadrian wryly.

"You did not need to snub me," Tom argued, sounding a bit resentful about it. "My Death Eaters shouldn't see that. What do I look like—can't even control my own—"

"Don't turn this around on me," Hadrian interrupted with a sneer. He jumped out of his seat and got as close as he could to Tom without being able to act on his need to hurt him. "And you are honestly out of your mind if you think you will ever succeed in _controlling _me."

Tom's eyes glinted challengingly and, when Hadrian turned away to leave the room with a decision to not speak to him until he had a proper apology ready, he shot out of the bed and grabbed his right forearm. He pulled Hadrian back flat against his chest, dipping his head down and nuzzling aside his hair to get to his neck.

"Let go, git," Hadrian bit out, hating himself for being affected where Tom's lips trailed down his neck.

Tom's teeth skimmed along the crook of his neck and bit into it, causing him to lightly moan. He smirked. "No."

Tom dropped Hadrian's forearm only to use his hands to remove Hadrian's robes and toss them aside. He then pulled the crimson bow tying his hair at the nape of his neck and released it to fall to his back. Before his shirt could be taken off, Hadrian came to his senses and pushed away from Tom.

He spun on his feet to face Tom with a glare. "Don't think that's going to work."

"What do you want from me? You, more than anyone else, should know this is as far as I am willing to go when it comes to apologies. I hope you do not expect me to get on hands and knees and beg forgiveness because you will be sorely disappointed," Tom said, his lips curled into a sneer of distaste.

Unable to control his fury any longer, Hadrian's Shadow struck out and pressed Tom against the bed by straddling him and holding his hands above his head. Tom growled, his own magic unfurling and Hadrian quickly took his Shadow's place.

"You have the most infuriating ability to make matters worse," Hadrian told him, drawing his face nearer to Tom's glowering one. "A simple sorry would have sufficed. I would have forgiven you and we could be past this by now."

Tom narrowed his eyes. He wiggled his hips and smirked triumphantly when Hadrian jerked against him. "Are you sure you aren't mistaking sexual tension with anger? It wouldn't be the first time, after all," he teased. "It's been, what, five days? I'd say that's a record."

Tom reached out his magic and touched Hadrian's, which was being used to keep him pinned to the bed. They both shuddered at the contact, having long mastered the art of twining their magic to bring each other pleasure. It had actually been a whole week and the enormous prick knew it.

Ever the charmer, Tom won out as Hadrian's resolve crumbled. His hands went from holding down Tom's to digging into his hair as he moved down to capture Tom's lips in a searing kiss. Tom's newly-freed arms came around Hadrian's neck to deepen the kiss exactly as they liked it, full of force and passion. Both of them satisfied their dominant urge—their tongues warred for control and their teeth bit soft flesh, drawing blood, which was lapped up at once.

Hadrian's hand slipped under Tom's shirt, drifting hot fingers up to circle around his left nipple. Tom arched into the fingers, tearing their mouths apart to gasp. Lips brushed the base of his throat then began to suck softly.

Tom fumbled with the zipper on Hadrian's trousers and, when he got fed up with that, just banished them away. Hadrian helped him out of his while Tom tried to pull at his shirt. It took them a while to accomplish this as their actions counteracted the other's.

When they were finally naked, Tom flipped their positions around and looked down on Hadrian's startled expression, which was giving way to obstinacy.

"Just to let you know, I intend to top," Hadrian said firmly. "Think of it as your apology to me."

"I figured as much, but I would like to have _some _control, if you don't mind," said Tom, his face sour at the idea of relinquishing any amount of control.

Hadrian laughed at the absurdity of the moment. "Some pair we are. It's been a year and we still haven't gotten used to this."

"Everything would work out wonderfully if you just stuck to bottoming," Tom pointed out, though it was evident their fight for dominance would never end.

"Keep dreaming," scoffed Hadrian.

Tom dignified that with a bruising kiss. Hadrian moaned as a hand traced the inside of his thigh, almost touching his erection but not quite there. His fingers twisted tightly around Tom's hair and his knee came up to nudge his lover's own arousal. With a groan, Tom broke the kiss only to slide down his body and take Hadrian's nipple into his hot, wet mouth.

"Fuck, Tom," gasped Hadrian and thrust his hips up to try to get to Tom's.

Freeing Tom's hair from his almost painful grip, his fingers traveled up and down Tom's spine then moved to his hips then to the cleft of his arse. Reflexively, Tom pushed back against them, making a little sound he would forever deny came out of his mouth.

Aware of how painfully hard they both were, Tom extricated himself to search the drawer for the lubricant. He was in such a rush that he just began to flick things aside and make a mess of his drawer. With his dislike for untidiness, he knew he would regret it later.

Hadrian lifted his head up from the bed to see what he was doing. If he hadn't found it yet, then it certainly wasn't in there.

"_Accio _lubricant," he intoned with a wave of his hand.

The lubricant came zooming into his outstretched hand from the adjoining room—Tom's bathroom. Hadrian held it up for him as Tom turned to look at the bottle.

"Ah, so that's where I'd left it," Tom said nonchalantly, ignoring the amusement pouring from the other boy.

"I see you were perfectly fine without my assistance the last _five_ days," Hadrian teased, laughing when Tom swatted his arse.

"I don't have to put up with your smart mouth, Mr. Black; I am Lord Voldemort," Tom countered lightly, moving back into position over Hadrian.

Hadrian handed him the bottle with a smirk. "Then get to preparing yourself, Lord Voldemort," he mocked.

Hadrian's eyes flew open. He sat up so fast in bed that his head spun. He took a moment to breathe. Then he opened his drapes to make sure that he was still in his dorm room and not in some opulent Slytherin-decorated room with Tom Riddle.

It was then he noticed the real problem was causing a tent in his pajama pants. This wasn't the usual morning erection that he could ignore relatively well. He was fucking hard! Actually, the last time he'd even had an erotic dream was before his first time with a boy. And, now, to have one of Tom was like a hard blow to his head. This was something he could certainly do without thinking about. But, as much as it was a shock, it was also an eye-opener. He could deny it no more.

He was bloody attracted to Tom Riddle.

_Finally! Now that wasn't so hard, was it? _

Stupid voice.

Hadrian got out of bed. He brought out his winter cloak from deep in his trunk and put it on. He would go to the forest and practice his new Animagus form; that would help settle his mind.

Choosing to walk there gave him time to assimilate the dream and walk off his erection. (He categorically refused to wank because of Tom.) Much more than the beginnings of a wet dream, the dream had seemed pretty realistic. He knew how an erotic dream went. It usually started hot and heavy and it didn't need to have a story to it.

Not to mention, that Shadow trick. He could do no such thing. He hadn't even known it was possible to make his Shadow get somewhere before he did and then take its place, especially while touching someone. When he Shadow Stalked, he was a part of the Shadows, so they arrived at the same time. He could move his Shadow somewhere or make it hold someone but then he would need to get there himself without the Shadows that were already in use, usually by Stalking with his own shadow.

Hadrian couldn't understand it. All Shadow Lords uncovered one more thing the Shadows can do than the Lord before them since each was more powerful. He'd already uncovered his, so why had he seen this new trick unless he was supposed to uncover that as well. Had the merge with his counterpart changed something else?

That didn't make sense. Harry Potter had been the only Shadow Lord and it had only been passed on because of him. Why should Hadrian get to uncover his own ability in the Shadows when he'd never had it?

As irrational as it was, Hadrian thought he might as well try and see if he could succeed. Practicing the Shadows had always been tiresome and grueling but it had been extremely fun, too.

First, though, he would need to master his Drake form. Unfortunately, he hadn't gotten very far with that. He'd need to give more attention to it. At least one good thing had come out of that awful dream. If he just concentrated on these two goals, he wouldn't even need to acknowledge what the dream had revealed.

The voice's loud, incredulous laughter rang in his head and he got the distinct impression he wouldn't dodge that particular discovery so easily.

**000**

Hadrian surprised him by coming to him before dinner Sunday evening while Tom was in the Slytherin common room.

"I am interested in going to this supper," he said.

Abraxas, who was sitting in the seat next to Tom's, asked, "Slughorn invited you to the Slug Club, then?" At Hadrian's nod, he smiled, adding, "I knew it would only be a matter of time. We were just about to head there."

Hadrian looked around at their group. "We?"

Tom stood up and Abraxas, Renatus, Antonin, Julius, and Devan stood with him. Others scattered around the room stood also, including Jezebel and Adelina.

"The Slug Club consists largely of Slytherins. It's imperative that we arrive together," provided Tom.

While they may not be the most well-liked House in Hogwarts, they were known for being ambitious and Slytherin was comprised of many strong people destined for greatness. He could see the amused spark in Hadrian's eyes and knew the boy wanted to say something likely inappropriate about that but was refraining.

"All right. Lead the way, then," Hadrian said.

Renatus glared at him for the perceived order but Tom held up a hand to forestall anything he might say. Whatever it was that had made Hadrian averse to his company must have been resolved if he was going back to treating him however he liked no matter who was there. The Hadrian of the last week would not have said that, much less approached him.

Leading the way, apparently, meant Hadrian was going to walk right next to him. Tom glanced at him and got a raised brow in return. He curbed the ridiculous urge to grin.

Since the Slug Club room was in the dungeons by Slughorn's office, they were usually the first to enter and it was no different this time. The room was dim and lit only by torches hanging on the stone walls. The large table was filled with enough food for a whole House.

The moment Slughorn saw them, he bustled over. "Welcome! Please, take a seat and we will begin shortly. Oh, I see you could make it, Mr. Black! It's great to have you here!" He shook Hadrian's hand enthusiastically.

Hadrian had a concealed grimace on his face. "Thank you, professor. It was kind of you to invite me."

"Nonsense! You got in on your own merits," Slughorn said. "Why don't you sit up front today so I can introduce you to the rest? Tom, if you would be so kind?"

"Of course, sir," Tom complied. He beckoned Hadrian to follow him to the head of the table and put him in the seat next to him.

"This whole thing seems a bit ostentatious," Hadrian said lowly enough for only Tom to hear.

"And balls are not?" Tom returned, amused that a pureblood coming from two prominent families would think this.

Hadrian waved his hand dismissively. "They serve a specific purpose; I do not understand why a school needs this."

"Beauxbatons does not have something like this, then?" Tom asked.

"Of course not."

Tom smirked. "And yet they call their school the Palace of Beauxbatons."

Hadrian chuckled softly. "True."

The other members trickled in soon after. Slughorn greeted all of them just as loudly as he had the Slytherins. Once everyone had come and sat down, Slughorn stood before his seat at the head.

"Thank you all for coming. Tonight, I would like to introduce a new member of the Slug Club. I'm sure you are all familiar with him. Please welcome Hadrian Black." Here, Slughorn gestured at Hadrian, who smiled at all the curious faces. "I hope you make Mr. Black feel right at home here and will introduce yourselves when the time permits."

A chorus of agreements and welcomes went around the table. Beaming, Slughorn took his seat and commenced the dinner. They took the next hour to eat and talk quietly amongst their neighbors. Afterward, the food was vanished and replaced with drinks while everyone took the time to socialize.

Evidently, Tom didn't need to introduce Hadrian to most of the people he had wanted to. He already knew all of the seventh years and most of the sixth. He even hit it off real well with Dalilah Crouch, who Tom himself found pretty annoying. Tom now supposed that it would seem ostentatious to the boy if he'd been asked to join a club full of people he had already met.

"Not at all what I expected," Hadrian said, sounding a bit disappointed.

"What were you expecting?" Tom asked.

"A bit more excitement."

Tom laughed quietly. "Wait until we have a party."

Hadrian gave him a doubtful glance. "Is it anything like yesterday's?"

"No, mercifully," Tom replied.

"Well, that's good. What we really need is a dueling stand," Hadrian said.

Tom gave him a long look. Could he be hinting that they go back to dueling, even after what had happened Tuesday and Thursday?

"Yes. I still must repay you for Thursday," Tom hazarded.

"We shall see about that," Hadrian countered with a smile, that challenging glimmer finally back in his eyes as he faced Tom.

Tom returned his smile and felt somewhere deep inside him leave its hollow shell and come truly alive for the first time.

* * *

**TERMS:**

_Niger _- black

_Helix _- A structure consisting of something wound in a continuous series of loops.

_Que demande le peuple?_ - What more could you ask for? *This is not the literal translation. It's only an expression.

ankh - A cross shaped like a T with a loop at the top. The Egyptian hieroglyph for life.

* * *

_For a look at the Ravenclaw seventh year boys' dorm, check out my profile for the link. It's not really important but just in case my description was a little confusing._

* * *

Edited: 8/21/09


	8. Swan Song

_**Hollow Thunder, Vital Lightning -**__Aariya_

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle

Genre: Drama, Romance, Fantasy, Action/Adventure

Summary: Life after Voldemort is ideal and perfect for everyone except the one who made it possible. Unbelievably bored and unhappy, Harry performs a spell that will take him to an alternate universe where he can be happiest with Voldemort. Even he hadn't expected the outcomes or how the spell would misinterpret his desires.

Warnings: _slash_; AU; Slytherin!Harry; Dark!Harry (sorta)...and another one I took out that you will have to figure out for yourself; it's kind of crucial to the plot so I can't tell you!

Spoilers: Compliant with first five books and includes information from six and seven.

**Disclaimer:** I just had the craziest thought: Harry Potter belongs to me. See, told you it was crazy. Sorry, I haven't had my pills today; I'm told Harry Potter is actually property of J.K. Rowling.

.-.

"HTVL" - English, or other human languages

_HTVL - Thoughts, Spells, Special Text (titles and such)_

_"HTVL" - Parseltongue, Incanted Spells, or a language within a language _

_**HTVL - Parselmagic (spells and the language in writing)**_

Chapter 8: Swan Song

* * *

Here he was again—practicing his Drake form for the third day in a row in the Forbidden Forest. His research from earlier in October yielded great success because now that he knew what type of Drake he was, he was doing much better in mastering his form.

Hadrian had found out he was a Grecian Drake, which were typically known to be quite different from the others. (Great, again he was different from everyone else.) The Grecian Drakes had also been the first ones to supposedly become extinct so not much was known about them. The one thing he'd consistently found was that Grecian Drakes were different because where all other Drakes emitted blue fire, their specialty was lightning.

He'd thought it too much of a coincidence to actually be one when he'd read that. He'd even briefly entertained the notion that his scar influenced the type of Drake he was but that had quickly been discarded at the absurdity of it; something like that couldn't possibly have had any influence over his form.

Still, though, he wasn't complaining at this unexpected turn of events. He'd found that lightning was much more flexible and had a larger array of possibilities than blue fire. And it happened to be hotter.

Hadrian hoped to begin working on it today as by now he'd gotten the hang of his form enough to be able to move smoothly. He'd been going about it all wrong during the initial practice. The way Drakes and thestrals moved had only one thing in common: they were both extremely fluid (much like him since mastering the Shadows—maybe that had contributed to what kind of animal he would be both times).

Drakes were much like snakes with wings. They were exceptionally fast, to the extent that he could travel a distance of over a hundred feet in the blink of an eye. When he didn't intend to fly, he sort of slithered and glided across in a way serpents were known to.

He'd gotten the hang of it fairly quickly once he was able to separate the ingrained habits of his old form from his new one. He'd miss his thestral form but the novelty of being a supposedly extinct magical creature was catching up to him as well. Maybe he was even the only Drake Animagus ever! The prospect in itself excited him.

Hadrian shivered under the frigid early morning air and quickly transformed to block it out. Apparently, Drakes liked cool, damp areas so the cold was a delight to him in this form. Sucking in a fresh breath of air, he spread his wings so as to do a couple laps around the clearing before starting on perfecting his lightning abilities.

Soon enough, he would have this whole thing down and then he could begin the Shadow trick he was really anticipating getting to.

**000**

After Double Ancient Runes that day, Hadrian was on his way to lunch with Alphard as usual when they were halted in their path by a Hufflepuff boy he had only a vague memory of. He stood nervously before them for a while in silence, at which time Hadrian noticed he wouldn't look Alphard's way at all.

"You're in our way," Alphard said, sounding mildly irritated.

The Hufflepuff cringed but still refused to so much as peep at Alphard.

Taking pity on him, Hadrian gently asked, "Is there something we can do for you?"

The boy locked the most striking shade of blue eyes on him. "Yes. I wanted to talk to you in private," he replied.

Hadrian glanced at his cousin, who looked about ready to protest and scare the boy off. Before he could, though, Hadrian nodded at the Hufflepuff.

"Hadrian—"

"I'll see you at lunch, Alphard. I shouldn't be too long," Hadrian interrupted.

He noticed the distrustful gaze he shot the boy but Alphard made no further comments and continued on his way to the Great Hall. Once he was down the corridor, Hadrian faced the quiet boy. He was back to fidgeting anxiously upon having Hadrian's full attention on him.

"Well, then," Hadrian said, trying to sound reassuring, "what did you wish to talk to me about?"

His head down, the Hufflepuff said, "There's a Hogsmeade visit this Saturday—as I'm sure you know—and I was wondering...if-I-have-any-chance-at-a-date-with-yo ur-cousin." The rest of it was said in a great rush and mumbled.

Hadrian blinked in bewilderment, having understood none of that. "Excuse me. Could you repeat that?"

The brunette drew in a big breath, as if he were gathering up his courage. "I was wondering if I have any chance at a date with Alphard," he repeated in clear tones. Then he flushed, supposedly at his unexpected daring.

Hadrian stared at him. He could understand that the boy was shy and possibly even a little fearful of approaching one of the 'big, bad' Slytherins, but he couldn't grasp why he might think he had no chance with Alphard. Hadrian would readily admit that the Hufflepuff was very attractive, what most would consider lovely or beautiful.

His medium short hair had wavy curls that fell slightly into his face and gave him an exotic appearance. The contrast of his dark brown hair and vibrant blue eyes (that were more electric than even Cosette's) just added to the appeal. He was of average height but had a more slender form than most, with narrow hips and long legs. He must have many admirers himself and, here he was, so nervous about Alphard—who, in Hadrian's opinion, should really have no problem with someone so endearing.

"I'm sorry. Where are my manners? What is your name?" Hadrian asked.

The other boy blushed lightly, only then realizing that he had forgotten to introduce himself. "My apologies; my name is Noah Vaisey and I'm a sixth year Hufflepuff."

Hadrian recognized the surname instantly. The Vaiseys were a Dark pureblood family that owned a large chain of weaponries all over the world. If he remembered correctly, Vaisey had an older brother who was heir to the family, which had allowed him to escape the full brunt of his family's disappointment when he'd been Sorted into Hufflepuff instead of Slytherin. (That threw out his theory that Vaisey might be scared of approaching a Slytherin.)

It had been much talked about back then because the Vaiseys, like the Blacks and Malfoys, have traditionally been in Slytherin for centuries and disapproved of anyone breaking that custom. Hadrian now understood why Vaisey would be so unsure about Alphard, the "proper" heir to his side of the Black family. But the boy didn't know Alphard as well as people close to him did. He wasn't really that proper and Hadrian doubted he was the type to shun someone just because they were different. After all, hadn't his counterpart helped Sirius even though he'd been a failure to his family?

Hadrian was sure not to let what he was thinking show on his face, instead smiling at Vaisey and extending his hand out in greeting. Vaisey returned a tentative smile and shook the proffered hand.

"It's nice to meet you. And let me assure you, it's unlikely you will have any problems where Alphard is concerned. He likes them pretty," Hadrian teased, chuckling when Vaisey reddened.

"Um, thank you," Vaisey stuttered uncharacteristically for one raised in a Dark pureblood home.

"Jokes aside, if you have come to me so that I may aid you in your plight, I'll be more than happy to talk to Alphard," Hadrian tendered.

Vaisey's extremely blue eyes shined on him in delight. "Really? You would do that?" he asked disbelievingly in a soft voice.

Hadrian lifted a dubious brow at him. "That is why you came to me, is it not?"

"Well, no—I mean, yes," he wavered, took a deep breath, and said, "I had hoped you _might_ be willing to help me there, but the reason I came to you was because you are close to Alphard and you would know most how he would respond to this."

That was the longest thing the boy had said to him. Hadrian was actually disappointed that he was so lacking in courage. If someone like him had to be so afraid of rejection that he had to feel the other person out before he confessed, his confidence must have really been beaten. Alphard would eat him alive, such opposites that they were. On second thought, he would need to reevaluate Alphard's reaction to this.

"I do not know exactly how Alphard will react but I doubt it will be unfavorably," Hadrian confessed. "Nonetheless, I will speak to him and get back to you on that."

In a burst of self-assurance, Vaisey took his hand and shook it firmly. "Thank you very much. I am forever in your debt. Anything you ask of me, I shall give."

Hadrian was about to tell him that he should not promise something like that so easily but thought better of it when he saw the certainty on his face. He may not have lived up to his family's expectations of him, but Noah Vaisey was still a pureblood who knew all about debts and the consequences of not living up to one's promises.

Hadrian returned the handshake. "I just may take you up on your offer," he said.

He felt the passing of magic where their hands met. It circled around then moved up their arms until it hit their chest, in search of their magical core to twine them together until the promised debt was carried out. The punishment for an unfulfilled debt was quite painful, though it wasn't as harsh as the Unbreakable Vow. It would be utterly impossible for Vaisey to deny Hadrian anything he asked for now.

Vaisey briefly closed his eyes and breathed in. The impact would be stronger in him as he was the one who initiated the debt. When he reopened his eyes, Hadrian was surprised to see that they were an even brighter and more colorful blue.

Then Vaisey released his hand and Hadrian was compelled to release his and the magical moment ended. The sixth year's eyes went back to their original color.

"I will speak with Alphard and get back to you, Vaisey," Hadrian repeated, deciding he'd been late enough for lunch and soon Alphard might come to see what had happened.

"Please, call me Noah," said Vaisey softly, unsurely.

Hadrian smiled at him with faint amusement. The boy's occasionally shy nature was starting to grow on him. "Likewise, I'd like it if you called me Hadrian."

Vaisey—Noah smiled back a little more boldly. "Thank you," he said. He moved out of Hadrian's way and stood to his left, gesturing in the direction of the Great Hall. "Please, I don't wish to keep you from your lunch."

"Are you headed there as well?" Hadrian asked. He received a short nod and suggested, "In that case, we will go together."

Noah didn't do anything but stare at him for a second but then he smiled, nodded, and walked beside him to the Great Hall. Hadrian, for some reason, got the feeling he'd just won Noah's loyalty—Hufflepuff and all. However presumptuous, he could not shake it off.

**000**

Tom let out a frustrated sigh that went unquestioned in the singularly occupied Chamber of Secrets library. He was becoming thoroughly fed up with the continued lack of results in his search for immortality. He'd looked through every book but one in the list the large tome in the center of the room had provided. Yet, he still could not find anything adequate. Even the small number of Parseltongue books he'd perused were inefficient.

All of the books either required that he give up something he was unable to or something he could not bear to, like portions of his magic that would be permanently removed from him. That was unacceptable. There were many things he was prepared to give up in order to attain immortality but his magic was just as precious to him as his life. Though, if it came down to it, he could not honestly say he would choose magic over life.

It seemed he would have to wait until his inheritance to get his hands on some of the more advanced Parseltongue books. The need to figure out a way to do that without Dumbledore's keen eyes watching his every move was greater than ever. How he was going to accomplish that, however—with only the small amount of students staying at Hogwarts for the break that made it easier for the barmy old man to watch him—was still a mystery.

Then, a thought struck him. A suddenly niggling idea that was proving to be plausible the more he went over it. Almost hastily, but with the proper grace befitting the future Dark Lord, Tom grabbed the last book he had yet to look over and threw it into his bag before standing up to leave the room. He would have to be careful not to be seen reading the book, even by his followers. It was to his benefit that they remain oblivious to his desire for immortality. He would bewitch it to avoid a slip-up after he did this.

Tom exited the Chamber of Secrets and went up the closest stairwell to the fifth floor without detection. Most of the school was in class while he had his free period so he was almost guaranteed he could do this without interruption.

As expected, the fifth floor was empty when he reached it, as was the corridor Gregory the Smarmy was situated in. He walked upon the statue and placed his bag on the floor. As an extra precaution, he set up a simple proximity ward to let him know the moment someone came up here then added a strong compulsion spell to dissuade them from coming in his direction. He wished to study this unhindered.

If he could open the passageway hidden in the statue as he'd seen Hadrian do, Tom would have the perfect way for him to come and go as he pleased without Dumbledore being any the wiser. And, more important, when the time came for him to claim his rightful title as Lord Slytherin, he would definitely be there for it.

**000**

Hadrian didn't get a chance to tell Alphard until later that night when they were in the common room doing their homework along with most of the other Slytherins in the room. Hadrian finished first so he watched his cousin and waited patiently (translation: _with great impatience_) as he put the finishing touches to his Transfiguration essay.

He couldn't wait to impart this piece of information, though, and his anticipation was practically palpable. It was difficult to remember the last time Alphard had been in a relationship or had been pursuing anyone so playing matchmaker could prove to be very fun. Which reminded him, he may need to do another prank soon to bring some thrill back into this school (though the Hogsmeade trip may turn out to be either enjoyable or like usual).

Alphard must have sensed his excitement because he paused in his writing to look at him with a puzzled expression on his face, one that clearly communicated how odd he thought it that the usually composed Hadrian was being this transparent in his body language.

"What has you so giddy?"

Hadrian inwardly grinned. Trust Alphard to be so blunt about it. _He _wouldn't have used that word to describe it, but he supposed that's what it really was.

He held back his smile and said, "Finish up first then I will tell you."

Alphard's expression changed to show he was intrigued. "What is it?"

Hadrian shook his head. "Patience is a virtue, dear cousin."

Alphard snorted softly. "Says he who is ready to burst out of his seat."

"Hush; get to work," Hadrian admonished lightly.

Alphard pouted exaggeratedly but complied, his gaze once again fixing on his essay and his quill beginning to move along his parchment. Hadrian occupied himself with looking around the common room as he waited it out. Tom hadn't deigned to grace Slytherin House with his presence tonight and, consequently, several key people known to be close to him were gone as well, including Abraxas, Julius, Lestrange, Dolohov, Rosier, and Mulciber.

That, at least, guaranteed Hadrian an empty dorm room in where he could talk to Alphard in private, even if the thought of Tom preparing his roommates and cousin for what he knew was a life of servitude made his skin crawl and itch to go up there to break it up in true Gryffindor style. But that, of course, was ridiculous. He was a Slytherin, and he could do nothing about Tom's apparent desire to rule supreme, as Voldemort had wanted to, until faced with the problem.

Well, a part of him was eager for that day while another bemoaned the idea of fighting someone who—if not actually a friend—he thought of as a companion. Hadrian immediately beat that side into submission.

_Attractions aside, it does not mean I like the guy all of a sudden. He's still a potential megalomaniac who I'm going to enjoy fighting and making life hard for again, _Hadrian thought.

_Attractions aside, he says, _the voice snickered, an odd sound that clouded Hadrian's mind for a moment. _As if it will be that easy. _

Hadrian, as usual, ignored it and put his thoughts aside. He turned to Alphard just as he put his quill down with a satisfied smile. Alphard swished his long vine wand at his paper and the ink dried up, allowing him to roll up his parchment and put it in his bag.

"Okay, what did you want to tell me?" Alphard asked once he was done.

Hadrian stood up and led the way to their dorm, saying, "Not here."

Alphard followed him down. "What is it about?" he asked curiously.

"You," Hadrian replied simply.

He opened their dorm when they got there and indicated that Alphard enter first. Closing the door, he put up a Silencing Charm then faced his cousin, no longer able to contain his excitement.

"Do you know the boy who stopped me during lunch?" Hadrian asked, moving over to sit on his bed.

Alphard sat in his as well—across Hadrian's—dangling his long legs over the end column of the four-poster and facing Hadrian. "Yes. I don't remember his name but I know his brother, Seraphim Vaisey." At Hadrian's questioning glance, he elaborated, "He was a Slytherin and he graduated the same year as Walburga. Everyone knew to leave his younger brother alone because he was so protective of him. He even managed to get Tom into warning them off. I think Tom watches out for him even now."

Hadrian hadn't been expecting to hear that. Not only about Tom's part in it, but also that Noah's brother had fended off any trouble that the boy might have encountered from other Dark purebloods as a result of his Hufflepuff Sorting. Then why was Noah's confidence so low? Maybe his parents weren't as forgiving.

"Why do you ask? What did he want to talk to you about?" Alphard inquired.

"Before I tell you, I want to know what you think of him," Hadrian said.

"About who? I don't even know his name," Alphard pointed out.

Hadrian thought that a good point and informed, "His name is Noah and he's a sixth-year Hufflepuff."

Alphard gazed at him shrewdly, as if he were searching for some kind of between-the-lines message in Hadrian's words. Then, he smiled slightly and visibly relaxed, like he was satisfied with what he'd discerned.

Running an absent hand through his hair, Alphard replied, "I've never paid much attention to him and there's not much to say on the matter but, from what I have seen, I've always thought him exceptionally shy. There's a select few people he talks to freely, consisting of his brother, friends, and, amazingly, Tom. I saw that once during my fifth year and Seraphim's last year here." He must have understood the expression on Hadrian's face because he nodded along. "Took me completely by surprise, too. He only blushed around Tom but he spoke to him comfortably. I suppose that's because Tom favored Seraphim so much."

"Hmm," Hadrian hummed, contemplating on that for a second. He'd never personally met Seraphim Vaisey, though that was mostly because he wasn't very involved in his father's business beyond the training. He knew the Vaiseys did business with his father, as they had all kinds of weapons, including ones used for warding. He wanted to know why Tom favored this Seraphim so much so that he extended it to his non-Slytherin brother.

_Is that jealousy I sense?_ the voice taunted.

Hadrian grimaced inwardly and immediately turned away from those thoughts, effectively ignoring the irritating, unwelcome thing in his head. He glanced at Alphard, who was watching him thoughtfully.

"Enough about that," Hadrian said quickly, not liking that calculating gleam in those usually smiling eyes. "That's not what I wanted to talk about." He paused, then, not wanting to beat around the bush—especially with Alphard—plunged ahead, "Noah Vaisey has asked me to pass along that he would like to have the honor of taking you out on a date this Hogsmeade weekend."

Hadrian waited, unconsciously holding his breath eagerly. He expected some kind of reaction from Alphard: surprise, curiosity, consideration, happiness—horror, even. _Something_. Anything would have been better than the blank expression he got in return.

"Oh," Alphard voiced after a moment of silence.

Oh? _Oh?_ Was that all he had to say?

"What do you mean 'oh?'" Hadrian asked. "Aren't you the least bit…pleased?"

Alphard looked down, his dark hair hiding his face from Hadrian. "I don't know. I'll need time to think on this."

Hadrian frowned slightly. This was not like Alphard at all. If he didn't want to accept the invitation, he would not have hesitated in turning it down. So what was going through his head that he needed to think about?

"Alphard, what's wrong?" Hadrian asked, standing from his bed to move to where his cousin's legs suspended from the end of his bed.

Alphard glanced up at him then, his gray eyes raw with an inscrutable emotion. "Do _you_ want me to go with him?" he asked urgently.

Hadrian's brows furrowed in confusion. "Well, it doesn't matter what _I _think. He's a nice fellow—good-looking, too—but it's up to you. I don't want you to feel like you're obligated to do this," he explained, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I only thought you might enjoy it."

With a decisive nod, Alphard gave him a smile that Hadrian noticed did not reach his eyes. "How about a game of chess?" he asked, his voice much lighter than the expression on his face.

More disturbed by Alphard's response than he could precisely identify but willing to allow his cousin to distract him, Hadrian agreed, "Okay."

They took Alphard's chess set up to the common room and chose a small table by the entrance to play. Not long into the game, Anastius came through the entrance with—from what Hadrian had observed thus far—his closest friend, Lucas Pyrites. He was also a sixth year and on the small side, his head barely brushing Anastius's shoulder—though Anastius, like his brother, was taller than many his age.

Hadrian couldn't figure out why they were such close friends because—if there ever was one—Pyrites was the anti-Anastius. He was short and very thin with blond hair and pale eyes, had absolutely no interest in Quidditch, and was quiet, as he hardly ever spoke to anyone but Anastius. It was a mystery even to others who had known the two for much longer than Hadrian had.

Anastius spotted them and immediately came over, Pyrites trailing behind reluctantly. "Evening, Hadrian, Alphard."

Hadrian returned the greeting while Alphard mumbled distractedly, his eyes glued to the chess set as he tried to decide how to move. Why he had suggested the game, Hadrian couldn't work out. Alphard was abysmal at chess.

Anastius took one look at the board and commented, "He's going to take your bishop pretty soon, Alphard."

Alphard frowned, scrutinizing Hadrian's white pieces even more as he tried to make out how that was going to happen. Hadrian lightly scowled at his captain for giving him away, though he doubted Alphard would even see it.

"You're not very good at this, are you?" Anastius taunted. He ignored Alphard's glare and told Hadrian, "You know, it's Cassius's birthday tomorrow."

No, he had not known. He had been avoiding the Zabini heir the last eight days since they'd had sex.

"So?" Alphard said matter-of-factly, a deep frown on his face.

"So," Anastius spared Alphard a displeased glance, "I thought you might like to know considering…" here he appeared uncomfortable, waving his hands vaguely as he finished awkwardly, "you're doing whatever it is you do with each other."

Alphard snickered and Hadrian only just kept himself from following suit at the sixth year's light blush; even Pyrites looked vaguely amused. It seemed Anastius was still squeamish when talking about homosexuality. Or maybe it was just when concerning his brother with a boy.

"I appreciate your telling me. I had not known," Hadrian said. "Any idea what I should get him?"

"I don't know," Anastius replied, shrugging his left shoulder. "I just got him a book. It's what I always get him; not much else he's interested in."

Hadrian didn't want to get him a book, as that was probably what everyone got him. But he didn't want Cassius to take it the wrong way if he gave him a more thoughtful gift than even his own brother. Like he had told Alphard, he did not wish to string the Ravenclaw along when he had no intention of continuing their…well, _relationship_ wasn't exactly the right word. He wanted to get him a gift because he wanted to be friends and, truthfully, he felt guilty for just having sex with him and then pretty much tossing him aside. Admittedly, he could have handled that with a bit more grace.

Maybe a book would be for the best, after all.

"All right," said Hadrian. "Thank you for letting me know."

"How will you get him a gift?" Alphard asked once Anastius and Pyrites wandered away from them. "The night's almost over and you won't be able to find a catalog that will make it on time for tomorrow."

Hadrian smiled at him slyly. "By going to Hogsmeade, of course," he answered. "Would you like to accompany me?"

Alphard gazed at him dubiously. "The Hogsmeade visit isn't until Saturday, Hadrian," he reminded.

With a roll of his eyes, Hadrian stood and gestured for Alphard to do the same. "Come, there's much you don't know about your school," he said as he headed down the stairs to their dorm.

Alphard brought along his chess set and followed him. "Where are you going?"

"To get our cloaks. Then you'll be witness to a Hogwarts secret."

"And how is it you know any of Hogwarts's secrets when you've only been going here for all of two months?" Alphard questioned as he closed the door into their dorm behind him.

While Hadrian shuffled around in his trunk for one of his heavier cloaks, Alphard put away his chess set. Then he also went for a cloak.

Hadrian didn't answer as he pulled out a navy blue, silver trimmed cloak and shrugged it on. He hadn't planned on ever sharing with anyone the secret passageways into Hogsmeade but now that the idea of showing Alphard had entered his mind, it refused to leave. His instincts were telling him this was a good idea and, as they were usually dead on, he chose to follow them now.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" his cousin asked once he found a dark gray cloak and slipped it on, a resigned expression on his face.

Hadrian smiled innocently at him. "Sorry, Alphard, but a good magician never reveals his secrets."

Alphard gave him a puzzled look. "Pardon?"

Oh, right. Alphard was a pureblood; he wouldn't know anything about Muggle expressions. Hadrian couldn't tell him it was a Muggle saying as Hadrian himself had never stepped foot in their world long enough to know any of their sayings.

"Never mind," he sighed, suddenly missing Hermione a great deal. She would have understood him. "Let's go before it's curfew and they catch us out."

**000**

November eleven, Tom sensed as he awoke that morning, was going to be an unpleasant day. He could not say why—especially as it was a Thursday and he would be meeting with Hadrian to work on their project—only that he had a feeling it would be so.

Tom left his bed to begin his morning ablutions. Afterward, he donned his fresh uniform and black robes, grabbed his book bag, and then left his room for breakfast. When he came down to the common room, a fierce scowl etched onto his face at the sight before him.

Entwined together on the sofa was the Head Girl, Donella McTavish, and her Gryffindor boyfriend, Owen Padrig. Already having had a bad feeling about today, this was so not the way he would have liked it to begin. McTavish was well aware of his rules and letting her pigheaded, Light fanatic boyfriend sleep over was against every one of them. Tom, at that perfect opportune moment, would have liked nothing better than to show Padrig exactly what he thought of Light scum wizards with delusions of grandeur like himself.

Unfortunately, he had to settle for using a Stinging Hex to wake the self-important Gryffindor boy up. The idiot violently jerked awake, pushing his girlfriend off him in the process. Both of them squeaked in an undignified manner and Tom watched with satisfaction as Padrig's bewildered brown gaze turned up to him and instantly lit up heatedly.

"What the hell is your problem, Riddle?" Came that loud, patented Gryffindor sound he so despised.

"Owen," McTavish groaned softly, knowing that he had only made the situation worse and that Tom was not the most tolerant person.

"What is my problem, you ask?" Tom said coldly, his anger rising the longer he had to be in this Gryffindor's insufferable presence. "You are here sleeping in the Head's Dorm when it is vastly clear you are not the Head Boy. Would you care to explain that to me, Padrig? Choose your words very carefully because, make no mistake, I _will _make life hard for you this year should you disrespect me."

As expected, Padrig's pride would not stand for this and he was goaded into jumping up to face Tom down as best he could, despite his eyes coming only up to Tom's nose. His shaggy strawberry blond hair and scraggly clothes made him appear unkempt and unflattering next to Tom's immaculate figure.

"Are you threatening me?" Padrig growled like an animal. "Who do you think you are, you bloody, filthy Slytherin? What, you think you own this place now?"

Tom's eyes flashed red both in pleasure at having this imbecile fall almost compliantly so into his trap and anger at the Gryffindor for daring to slight _him_. "Detention with Pringle for a week," he purred, smirking at the enraged look on the boy's face. "And let's add another week to that for refusal to report to your assigned location."

"Why you—"

McTavish's hand came around to cover her boyfriend's mouth before he could say something that would really infuriate Tom. "Don't, Owen," she hissed.

Tom gave her a scornful glance. "I will let this slide today but the next time you invite anyone else to stay overnight, I shall see to it that _you _are not allowed back in."

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean for him to stay the whole night. We just lost track of time and fell asleep," McTavish explained nervously.

"I do not care. Get out, Padrig," said Tom uninterestedly, turning around to leave. "You are banned from here for the two weeks of your detention."

Padrig's incensed yell as the portrait closed behind Tom was music to his ears. He really hated that particular Gryffindor the most. He would certainly enjoy fulfilling his promise the rest of the year. Padrig would regret even _thinking _about looking in Tom's direction. He dearly hoped the boy enjoyed his detention with Pringle. The caretaker disliked Gryffindors even more than the Slytherins.

Hadrian wasn't there to greet him when he reached the Entrance Hall and Tom wanted to go back to give both Padrig and McTavish a harsher punishment for having made him miss the best first sight of his mornings. Convinced the day was only going to get worse from here, Tom strode toward the Great Hall as calmly as he could.

He was pleased to note Hadrian was sitting in Renatus's seat today. This was the first time he had chosen not to sit with Alphard since last Wednesday, the first day Hadrian had begun avoiding him. Even after they'd "made up" at the Slug Club supper, Hadrian continued to spend much of his time with his cousin, which maddened Tom to no end. The only fact that made it at all bearable was knowing that Hadrian was oblivious to how Alphard felt about him and, thus, could not possibly return those feelings.

Of course, Tom couldn't forget the way Hadrian acted around him nowadays. Tom didn't think Hadrian was even aware of it. It seemed to be an unconscious reaction to his presence, which pleased him more than he could say. Was he unwittingly reacting any differently to Hadrian as well? He hoped not; that would be wholly embarrassing and uncouth.

Before he even got close to the Slytherin table, Hadrian's head swiveled around to face him, obviously having sensed his presence. His eyes were bright, unearthly so, and many emotions flickered through them, none that Tom could catch. And, most endearing, his cheeks flushed slightly, as though he'd just been running, or his heart was beating wildly. He couldn't miss the color on his cheekbones as they were especially prominent today, his long hair tied into a high ponytail that brought them to the forefront.

At the moment, Tom wanted nothing more than to shove him against the nearest wall and have his wicked way with him. Tom almost paused in his steps. Oh, Merlin, were his thoughts degenerating to such an extent that they now included Muggle euphemisms? What was this boy doing to him?

Green eyes on him the entire time, even as he passed behind him, Hadrian greeted him with a gentle "Good morning, Tom" once he was upon the table.

"Good morning," Tom greeted in kind, returning the gaze as he took his seat on the boy's left. Normally, he never commented on it but he couldn't help asking today, "What brings you over to this side?"

A smile crept onto Hadrian's face. "I am in need of a good vantage."

"Of?"

"The other tables," Hadrian replied somewhat mistily.

Realizing that was all the information he would be forthcoming with, Tom helped himself to the food set out before them. Hadrian's response implied that something of significance was going to happen. Well, significant to the boy himself, at least. Tom hoped it wasn't another of his tasteless pranks. That was one key difference between them; Tom absolutely disliked such childish displays of humor.

Tom's attempts at guessing what would happen to draw Hadrian's interest continued while the hall filled up for the first meal of the day. He missed Renatus's reaction to having his seat occupied once again but it was so boring and predictable now that he didn't count it a loss. Judging from the deadly glare he was currently giving his "supplanter," it had not been a favorable one.

Tom, however, did catch the dismayed glance Alphard bestowed upon his cousin and took particular glee in his misfortune, not even dampened when the exuberant Black gazed upon _him_ with barely hidden rancor (though he took note of it and vouched to do something about his impertinence).

Hadrian, in turn, looked at him apologetically, his eyes flicking to something that was behind Alphard. Alphard followed his gaze then glanced back at Hadrian, his eyes reflecting understanding. He flashed Hadrian a transparently forced smile (the boy smiled so much it was easy to decipher the fakes from a true one by now) and gave him a thumbs-up before taking his seat. Tom was now intrigued about what was going on.

By the time everyone had shown up and the owls arrived to deliver mail, Tom didn't make headway with his predictions, even when he'd looked around the hall, trying to find what Hadrian was watching. He'd narrowed it down to the Ravenclaws, as theirs was the only table they could clearly see.

Much like everyone else who had mail this morning, Hadrian's eyes trailed the hundreds of owls that came in. However, the snowy owl Tom recognized as his—Hedwig, was it?—was not flying down to him but instead circling the Ravenclaw table and then swooping down to someone at the end with a medium-sized parcel tied to her leg.

Cassius Zabini was sitting on the side of the Ravenclaw table that faced the Slytherins so Tom could quite plainly see the owl coming to rest before him. Zabini had several other owls waiting on him. It did not take long for Tom to connect that it was probably the boy's eighteenth birthday today.

Tom sneaked a glance at the pureblood on his right. His good mood over having Hadrian choosing to sit next to him was thoroughly ruined at the look of avid interest on the boy's face as he watched the Ravenclaw. Tom's attention went back to Zabini when he could no longer take to see that look directed at someone else, feeling a burning need to eradicate the person.

Zabini's hand went first to the snowy owl, the most unique and identifiable one of the bunch. He untied the parcel from the owl's leg—from the shape of the package, it seemed to be a book. Zabini unwrapped it to reveal a magnificent velvet-bound book with a gold coat that shimmered as far as the Gryffindor table could see.

The expression of awe on Zabini's face as he looked over the cover was unmistakable. He withdrew something else from the parcel: a note on small stationery that the Ravenclaw read with relish, a smile of pure joy on his face. Once finished, his eyes flew to Hadrian automatically and Tom dared not look at the Black for fear of his answering reaction.

His grip on the fork in his grasp tightened to the point where it was moments away from breaking—just a little push with his magic…. Tom willed himself to calm. It wouldn't do to create a scene in front of all these people—or anyone, for that matter. He would deal with Zabini at a more apt time.

Hadrian's snowy owl left the Ravenclaw table after a pet from her receiver. She came to land before her owner, garnering much attention from anyone who had been watching where she'd come from.

"Morning, girl," Hadrian cooed beside him, reaching out to play with her feathers, effectively ignoring any eyes focused on him. "Have you anything for me?" The owl hooted softly in what sounded almost like dejection. "That's okay; I wasn't expecting anything."

As he fed her some bacon, Tom wasn't the only one in wondering why Hadrian treated his owl as though she were intelligent enough to understand everything he said. Admittedly, she seemed like a rather smart owl, but she still was an _owl_.

With a final pat to her head and an affectionate nip at his fingers from her, the owl spread her wings and flew off. Hadrian stared after her until she could no longer be seen.

"You have a most beautiful owl, Hadrian," Adelina remarked. "Does she actually understand you?"

"Why, of course," Hadrian replied, pride clear in his voice. "Hedwig is very intelligent. On my thirteenth birthday, one of my friends was out of the country and Hedwig, fearing that I would be unable to receive a present from her, flew to her to ensure I would get her gift."

Conversation at their end quickly became about pets and Tom, uninterested, filtered out their chatter for the remainder of breakfast. When it came to an end, Tom stood to walk with Hadrian to Defense Against the Dark Arts before Alphard had the chance to whisk him away. But then Antonin caught his eye from across the table, the need to talk clearly conveyed. Tom held back a sigh as he lagged behind to wait for Antonin to reach him, watching as Alphard all but rushed to his cousin's side.

"What is it, Antonin?" Tom asked once the boy began to walk beside him, trying to keep the irritation from showing in his voice.

Of course, Antonin, ever-observant, sensed it. "I apologize for any inconvenience, Lord."

"It is all right. What is it?" Tom repeated impatiently.

"This morning, Pyrites came to me and expressed interest in joining you," Antonin spoke softly so as not to be overheard.

"Pyrites?" Tom marveled, thinking of the small, quiet sixth year and unable to connect that image with one that wished to do whatever was necessary to change the world for the better.

"Lucas Pyrites, Lord."

"I know who he is, thank you. Why would he come to you instead of directly speaking with me?" Tom asked.

Antonin didn't answer until a gaggle of Hufflepuffs who cut them off on their way to their common room passed. He and Tom ascended the grand staircase to the first floor while he elucidated, "He felt more comfortable with me as Anastius's cousin."

Tom understood that. It was well-known that the boy hardly conversed with anyone but the Slytherin Quidditch captain. "Very well, bring him along next time," he commanded. "While we're on this, how is it going with your cousin?"

"Not well, Lord," the Dolohov confessed, the usual shame that colored his tone whenever he spoke of either of his cousins' lack of devotion to Tom now in his voice. "Anastius reasons that he is not _made _for that brand of lifestyle. He is more willing than Cassius, however."

Tom's lips curled with distaste, the mere mention of the Zabini heir enough to send his blood boiling. He sneered, "I do not care anything for him. I shall speak to Anastius myself."

Antonin noticed his discontent and hurried to reassure him, "Perhaps Pyrites might be of help in committing him to finally join you."

"Perhaps." Tom highly doubted it, though. Pyrites was the one that followed Anastius, not the other way around.

It was quite annoying how far he'd gone to try to obtain the Zabinis, nonetheless. They were notoriously neutral and he'd been eager to ascertain he could change that, but both brothers had proven they were no different from their ancestors. Yet he was unwilling to admit defeat. He would have a Zabini within his ranks one way or another.

Tom separated from Antonin and took his designated seat once they entered the classroom. He returned his partner's small smile and forgot all about Zabinis and their infuriating stubbornness. That is, until the end of the lesson when the most infuriating of all Zabinis was quick to intercept Hadrian and ask to talk to him. For once, Alphard and he shared the same expression as they watched Hadrian walk out with the Ravenclaw.

Before his hand could whip out his wand and point it at Zabini's back like it so dreadfully itched to, Tom busied himself with gathering his things. He must have been emanating a lethal aura because Renatus thought better of it when he made to follow him to his dorm. Tom was partly disappointed; he would have loved to take his anger out on _someone_, even if it were Renatus.

His active imagination supplied Tom with multiple ways to cause Zabini unimaginable pain—_starting by gouging his eyes out in the worst way conceivable so his gaze had a better chance at keeping from straying where it did not belong_—as he stalked toward his dorm to discharge his anger someway before his next lesson.

Alas, with all the magic he was exuding in his fury, Tom felt Hadrian's magic several corridors prior to reaching his destination of the fifth floor. Immediately after, he became aware of that same taint he had felt on him at breakfast not too long ago clinging to him again; a repulsive stain he associated with Zabini.

Tom followed Hadrian's magical trail to the lesser-traveled staircase on the fourth floor that led to the nearest staircase to the prefects' bathroom. He had the perfect angle to view both boys without being seen but he still cast Disillusionment and Silencing Charms on himself.

The two stood dangerously close to one another on the first couple steps, Hadrian leaning casually on the railing against the wall while Zabini stood before him with that blindingly gold book in his hand. The look of utter adoration in his eyes as he stared at Hadrian only served to fortify Tom's conviction to remove them.

"How did you know?" Zabini asked, gesturing to the book. "I do not recall mentioning it."

"All it took was a little observation. Your room is littered with such books and I've also detected your ample skill in Transfiguration," Hadrian said, a mild smile on his face.

Zabini, if at all possible, became even more radiant. He stepped closer to the emerald-eyed boy, affecting a look of curious bashfulness. "What do you think about it?"

Hadrian smiled reassuringly. "I believe you would make an exceptional Animator, Cassius; hence why I got you this book."

_Animator?_ Tom's interest unexpectedly piqued. Oh, the things he could do with an Animator. Animators were very rare, not many people were interested enough in that branch of Transfiguration to become a full-fledged master. Maybe Zabini was worth the trouble, after all. Once he had him, he'd just have to warn him to keep away from Hadrian, that's all.

The Ravenclaw in question was smiling back at Hadrian, a soppy expression written all over his face. "Thank you; it is the best gift I have gotten. No one has put so much thought into the other books I've received, though I appreciate them all the same."

A brief look of conflict flashed across Hadrian's visage but then it was gone and replaced with finality before Tom could be sure of having glimpsed it. "There is no need to thank me, Cassius. We are friends, _n'est-ce pas_?"

Tom could barely contain the urge to cackle at Zabini's suddenly dejected countenance. It was obvious he'd wanted to be more than just friends with Hadrian and, for some reason, he'd thought the gift brought him closer to the boy. Hadrian had not said it outright but he'd made it apparent he wanted to go no further than friendship with Zabini. It only remained to be seen if the Ravenclaw could take a hint and _clear off_.

It was silent for a heartbeat as Zabini stared unwaveringly at Hadrian. Hadrian stared back, his eyes tender and apologetic. Then Zabini's intense eyes softened. He brought up a hand to delicately touch Hadrian's cheek, moving forward to stand even closer at the same time. Hadrian did nothing to stop him, letting the other boy's hand trail down his face in an almost reverent way. Zabini closed his eyes briefly and breathed in a quiet, shuddering breath; then opened them, his gaze sharp, passionate.

Tom choked with the abrupt rage that filled him at the Ravenclaw's actions. He nearly gave away his hiding place as his magic spiked impossibly. He pulled it back just in time—he was pretty certain Hadrian had the ability to sense him somehow. He had to content himself with mere images of Zabini's demise.

Zabini's fingers curled under Hadrian's chin to cup his face. Tom grew increasingly feral; he clenched his jaws so hard he knew he would come to regret it later.

**MINE.**

_Zabini had pianist fingers, long and elegant. Tom pondered which one he should snap off first. Should he break them clean off or keep them dangling from his knuckles so Zabini could always gaze upon them and remember?_

"I understand," Zabini murmured.

Without warning, he grasped Hadrian tighter and pulled him into a kiss. Hadrian stood frozen, doing nothing about the lips pushing against his. Tom nearly screamed the first spell that came to mind.

_**MINE.**_

_His mind's eye conjured up an incredibly vivid picture of Zabini after an Entrail-Expelling Curse, blood and organs still oozing out of him well after the initial impact._

Zabini let out an indecent moan once Hadrian began to slowly respond. Tom clenched his fists hard enough to break skin.

_**MINE!**_

_Midnight blue eyes were wide with an anguish so strong it was almost enough to satisfy Tom's violent urge to wipe out his entire existent. Still, not enough; nowhere near enough._

Tom, all the way from his position, could openly see Zabini's tongue dart out to lick Hadrian's lower lip. His left palm came around to intimately press flat against the back of Hadrian's long pale neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

_**MINE! MINE! MINE!**_

_Miserable keening sounds filled his head as the shredded body at his feet pathetically begged him for even a scrap of breath, but he held not a vestige of clemency as he laughed and laughed and laughed._

Zabini's tongue pushed its way insistently into his, _his, __**his**_ Hadrian's mouth, demanding entrance and successfully gaining it. Tom could see their tongues joining, could see Zabini gently sucking on Hadrian's, could hear the sounds he would never be able to forget, and his very magic promised vengeance on the ill-fated pureblood.

_Scum! How dare he put his filthy hands on what is __**MINE**__?_

Finally, after what seemed like eternity but was a little shorter than a minute, Hadrian pushed lightly against Zabini's chest to break the kiss. Zabini appeared so bereft at the completion of their lip-lock that it was as though he would be unable to go on living. Tom relaxed enough to ease up on the tight clasping of his fists and became aware of the immediate throbbing of pain he hadn't formerly been feeling in his hands.

It was now Hadrian who was cupping Zabini's face. Slowly, with the intention of what he was doing clear, he drew closer to Zabini and brushed his lips against his left cheek. "_Joyeux anniversaire_," he whispered.

The Slytherin pureblood released the Ravenclaw and sidestepped him to descend the couple of steps down the staircase. He walked with usual grace halfway down the corridor to the tapestry concealing the shortcut to the staircase that led two floors down.

Tom waited to be sure until he was completely gone, then his gaze returned to the only other occupant in the corridor. Calmly, he withdrew his yew wand, watching as the frustrated Zabini roughly carded his hands through his hair and banged his head and body against the wall. _Serves him right_.

_Only you and me, Zabini._

Just as calmly and quietly so as not to disturb the air too much and render his Disillusionment useless, Tom strolled down the expanse of hallway separating them, his mind cataloguing the worst curses he could use to begin Zabini's punishment. For the first time, he did not wish to be able to use the Cruciatus here; he had far more creative and deadly spells in mind. Zabini would not possess the capacity of mind to think about ogling, touching, _kissing _what belonged to him once he was through with him.

Tom did not even get around to removing the charms on himself when a voice called from down the corridor, where the main stairway to the fifth floor was.

"Cassius!" It was the MacDougal boy. "Why are you standing there? I have been waiting on you for going on fifteen minutes now."

Zabini stood straight and clutched the gold book to him. He walked to meet his fellow Housemate down the corridor, passing Tom's obscured form by a hair as he said, "I'm sorry, Nicolae. I didn't mean to hold you up. You should have gone without me."

Nicolae gave him a reproachful glance as they began to walk away together. "At least you are headed in the right direction," he reasoned. "Tertius is quite miffed with you."

Zabini's chuckle was low as they got further away. "Tertius is _always _miffed."

"That is fact," Nicolae agreed with a laugh. "You are still carrying this book around? I might begin to espouse the notion that you appreciate that gift more than you do mine if you continue this, dear friend."

Their voices drifted off. Tom gripped his wand tightly, eager to use it on someone, preferably a certain Zabini heir. He should have moved faster, he thought, Disillusionment be damned. He'd practically had Zabini at his mercy and he'd just let him slip away!

_Unforgivable. I shall not make the same mistake again._

Realizing the break between classes was almost over, Tom headed in the same direction Hadrian had to get to Arithmancy. At least he had Double Transfiguration to look forward to after his free period, there would be plenty of chances to exert his magic; Dumbledore liked to challenge them like that.

As he passed the staircase Zabini had been standing on, he spotted a note of small stationery paper. Recognizing it for what it was, Tom went over to pick it up and read what Hadrian had written to the boy in conjunction with his present. The contents of it in no way helped to calm Tom; though what he'd been expecting, he couldn't say.

_Cassius,_

_I am sorry to say that I had not previously known November 11th was to be your birthday. Your brother was kind enough to inform me last night, just short of curfew. However I've come across this knowledge, though, I am more than sincere in my desire to wish you a proper birthday. I do hope my gift demonstrates that well enough. When you get around to it, I would love to be witness to your mastery of these spells._

_Mes meilleurs __vœux_,

_Hadrian_

Tom crushed the small note in his hand, a deep scowl marring his face. He couldn't understand why that angered him further when Hadrian had tongued the guy right in front of him. Somehow, it seemed worse that he cared enough to write this boy a heartfelt note, signed only with his first name, and that unsettled Tom.

Cassius Zabini should count his lucky stars that November 11th happened to be his day and not Tom's.

**000**

"Hadrian."

Hadrian paused in pulling on his cloak and turned to Alphard as he stepped into their dorm. He couldn't read his cousin's blank face but Alphard's entire body seemed tense.

"Yes?" Hadrian prompted after a bit of silence.

Alphard's jaw clenched and he looked to the side. "I've accepted Vaisey's invitation."

Hadrian curbed his desired reaction—delight—to point out, "Why does it look as though this pains you?"

"I've decided to give it a chance; see how it goes. You were right, he's very lovely, now that I've taken a good look," Alphard dodged his question.

Hadrian stared at him in concern. What was wrong with him? Why did all this seem so difficult for him? It was just one date. There was really no reason for him to react this way, was there?

"Alphard?" Hadrian stood in front of him, idly noting that his cousin had grown half an inch taller than he. "Are you all right? Is this what you really want to do? Because if it isn't, you don't have to make yourself."

Alphard shook his head. "It's nothing. I'm fine with it," he said quickly. Redirecting now, he asked, "Where are you going?"

Hadrian debated whether to call him on his shifty behavior, then decided against it and responded, "I'm meeting Tom on the Astronomy Tower to complete one of the last phases of our project."

"I'm surprised you haven't finished. You've been meeting a lot more frequently than the other partners," Alphard observed, sounding slightly suspicious. "You must have a very elaborate project."

Laughing, Hadrian circumvented him to get to the door. "I'm afraid you will have to find out along with everyone else. However, I'm obligated to warn you: don't hold your breath for that prize. I am more than confident we shall be receiving it."

Alphard grinned as he watched him open the door. "What else can be expected when the two most brilliant students in class collaborate?"

Hadrian bowed theatrically. "Why thank you, cousin mine."

"It's well past curfew; do try not to get caught."

"Alphard, you know me better than that," Hadrian chided. "I shall see you tomorrow. Good night." Waving jauntily, he left Alphard alone in the room.

Instead of woolgathering on his way to the Astronomy Tower, Hadrian spent the time thinking about Alphard's unusual reaction. He couldn't fathom a reason why Alphard seemed to be against the very idea of going on a simple date with Noah—with all of Hogwarts as witness so he wouldn't have to invest much into it. Or maybe Noah in particular wasn't the problem.

Could it be that Alphard was no longer interested in any boy? That couldn't be it. His cousin had made it obvious early on that girls weren't for him. In fact, Alphard's father, Pollux, had been disappointed that his oldest son would not carry on his legacy and pass Grimmauld Place onto _his _son. Afterward, he'd placed much of his hopes for an heir of his flesh on Cygnus, which served as the main contributor as to why people had higher expectations of him than of Alphard.

It was highly unlikely that Alphard would suddenly change his mind, especially after having put up with his father's disappointment. Hadrian searched for other reasons why Alphard would be this way. First off, the question of why people turned others down bore asking. Off the top of his head, Hadrian could think of two major reasons. There was the obvious one that they didn't like them, but if that were the case with Alphard he would not have accepted.

Then there were those who already had their eyes set elsewhere. Was that it? Could Alphard be interested in another who probably didn't return his affections or didn't even know?

Hadrian hadn't noticed anything of the sort and he was pretty sure he would have been able to were that so. But at this rate, it seemed to be the only practical deduction. He supposed that if Alphard were inclined to be secretive enough, he would be able to hide it from him. He was, after all, a Slytherin, even if he expressed emotion more than the average one.

Frankly, it hurt that Alphard was willing to suffer through something he obviously didn't want to do as opposed to just telling him. Hadn't they been on the path to rekindling the relationship they'd shared prior to their going to different schools? What did he believe Hadrian would think if he declined?

Well, admittedly, he too was withholding much from his cousin, so it was hypocritical of him to expect something when he himself was disinclined to reciprocate.

All the same, it hurt a bit.

Without realizing it, Hadrian's feet swiftly brought him to the spiral staircase of the Astronomy Tower. Slowly, he climbed to the top, hoping that, for once, Tom was a little late and he'd have some time to compose himself. Bearing in mind Tom's anal retentiveness, he knew that was vastly improbable.

Nowadays, ever since his _minor_ breakthrough, he'd been unable to control himself around Tom. He found himself staring for no apparent reason other than to admire the boy's lips, face, jaws, neck…everything. When caught staring, he had the absurd urge to blush like a pathetic lovesick schoolgirl.

The meeting earlier during their free period had dragged on, as he'd been hyperaware of his partner. They'd been double checking everything and making any necessary changes to their design for tonight and that had required closeness that set Hadrian on edge.

The voice hadn't done much to help his predicament with its smug commentary. Neither had the triumphant atmosphere surrounding Tom, as though he'd overcome an important obstacle on his way to acquiring something he'd been coveting for a long time.

He hated it and was certain Tom was aware of it. Why else would he be so self-satisfied?

Hadrian reached the top of the stairs and, with a deep breath, pulled the iron handle out and onto the ramparts. He was unsurprised to see Tom already there, standing before one of the merlons of the battlement, looking down below. He turned to face him once Hadrian closed the door behind him. There was a thoughtful air about him as he moved away from the edge.

"My apologies for having made you wait." Hadrian noticed where their work rested somewhere between the middle and the left side of the tower.

Tom waved off his apology. "I myself arrived a minute ago."

Hadrian walked over to join him where Tom's bag was situated. "I am glad," he said for courtesy's sake. "Shall we, then?"

Tom nodded and, without wasting any time, moved to draw the runes in the center. Hadrian locked the entrance with the strongest spell he knew so as to keep out any nighttime prowlers in search of a place for passion (or prefects looking to find any such people). He also put up wide range Silencing and Obscuring Charms.

That taken care of, he watched Tom at work, for once finding his meticulousness charming. Hadrian noted that the Slytherin heir did not believe in re-examining his work for mistakes, but was always thorough the first time around. Whereas such arrogance would have exasperated Hadrian before, that Tom was nothing short of perfect in everything he did was accepted and to be expected now.

It didn't take long for him to finish drawing, despite it being a very intricate design. Hadrian was ready for him with the compass in hand. Tom took it and crouched down to put it in the middle of the triangle that was at the center of the rune circle. There was a rune at each point of the triangle: protection, defense, and guard.

The medium-sized circle under the triangle and the larger one around it with three circles interposing it in the shape of a triangle all had runes around them that counteracted the other three. The runes allowed the compass to break implemented wards that were comprised of protection, defense, and guard—and all security wards needed those basic ones. The dozens of other runes drawn around those would take care of the details.

This ritual did not require much of their physical magic. Whatever magic needed had been poured into their chosen anchors, the set of gems at each end of the compass. Because of having transferred a large amount of magic there, the only magic they would be performing throughout this was when Tom needed to activate the rune, when it was time for Hadrian to set the ward breaking in motion, and the small bit taken while they chanted.

It benefited them as they still hadn't recovered completely from donating much of their reserve magic to accomplish this.

"What is the exact time needed to begin this?" Tom asked as he stood up straight and looked over at Hadrian.

"At 2:26 A.M.," informed Hadrian. He cast a charm to check what time it was—2:17. He glanced up at the sky to see that the full moon was already almost all the way out, but precision was very crucial in these types of things. "Nine minutes to go."

There was silence between them as they gazed at the full moon and waited while standing around the rune. About three minutes later, Tom glanced over at Hadrian, a considering glint in his eyes. He stared for a moment.

Looking back at the moon, he asked, "I have been wondering for some time. Why did you transfer here? Why now; when it is your last year? It is illogical."

Hadrian faced him but Tom was no longer looking at him. Smirking, he replied, "The answer is very simple. You are making it out to be much more complicated than it really is. You must be imagining that I have this grand plot. Frankly, I switched schools to find a little more excitement. Beauxbatons is such a bore."

Hadrian could see Tom's amused smile from the side. "You don't believe me," he observed, not at all surprised.

Tom chuckled. "Oh, I do. That sounds just like you."

Perplexed, Hadrian wondered when Tom had gotten to know him so well. And, in a hidden place he would never admit to having, he was a little pleased Tom would care to.

"Have you?" asked Tom.

"Have I what?"

"Found excitement?"

"Oh, yes," Hadrian enthused. "Hogwarts is a thrill."

Tom raised a dubious brow at him, appearing unconvinced. "I have yet to see any _thrill_ in the short time that you have been here."

Hadrian would never tell him that most of that thrill was because of him. "Well, you have not been with me every moment, have you?"

"Yes, it must be a ball around you _all _the time," Tom chortled, looking over at him with a glint in his eyes.

It took a while for Hadrian to understand that Tom was _teasing _him. Such the rare occurrence that it was, it was reasonable that he be slow on the uptake. He couldn't even dredge up some kind of a laugh, he was so surprised.

When had he and Tom gotten to the point of joking like common people? Sure, there was some competitive banter and much one-upmanship, but there certainly had never been camaraderie like that between them. They'd maintained the relationship of Housemates, class partners, and tentative companions who occasionally liked to challenge one another for a little less than two months.

_What does that tell you?_

_I don't know. _There was this low persistent humming in his chest that he couldn't put a name to.

_Soon enough, it will all be clear to you. Nevertheless, at least one of you has caught on. _

_One of—_

"Hadrian," Tom interrupted Hadrian's almost-mental question, "it is time."

_We will talk about this later_. Hadrian warned the voice and felt a little silly after it.

The voice was completely unresponsive.

Unwitting to Hadrian's odd mental predicament, Tom triggered the rune circle. A bright orange glow emanated from the circle as it came to life. It did not take long for both of them to start feeling the immense amount of magic in the air.

Hadrian could literally see their combined magic surging from the green gems. He easily identified the emerald strand as his own and the dark red dancing in rhythm as Tom's. Both joined together with the orange from the runes; the color immediately became a dazzling amethyst.

It hovered placidly over the drawn circle and that was their cue to start the incanting.

_"Debilito Arx," _began Hadrian.

_"Cessi is vis vires,"_ continued Tom.

_"Cessi is vis vires," _Hadrian echoed.

_"Pateo Tutamen," _Tom went on.

_"Dilabor coram is vis vires," _added Hadrian.

_"Dilabor coram is vis vires,"_ repeated Tom.

"_Infigo Confractura."_

_"Accipio is vis vires."_

_"Accipio is vis vires."_

The palpable vibrations of the magic raised the hairs on the end of their skin. There was a constant sound that was suspiciously like a soft purr coming from it.

Hadrian and Tom repeated the cant twice more before, with a sudden rush, in all its purple splendor, the magic slammed into the compass. To them, it seemed to shake the foundations of the tower with the force of it. Despite that, the compass absorbed it all with ease and glowed for a moment before it returned to its normal state; the gems, however, turned a darker hue of green.

Hadrian walked into the center of the circle. He traced the triangle with the tip of his wand while speaking the spell to begin the warding. He went around the three runes as well before he stepped back out of the circle but did not stop weaving the wards. There was a dim light surrounding the circle now and it got brighter the more wards he weaved.

Once finished, the compass soaked up the wards, glowing faintly as it did. Hadrian waited a second to make sure that was the end of it. When it seemed evident that the ritual was over, he bent down to pick up the compass. It felt hot in his hand, as though all the magic it'd consumed that night was aching to burst out.

Tom stood behind him to look over his shoulder. "That was unexpected," he commented.

"Indeed," Hadrian acquiesced. "I hadn't realized we'd put that much magic into the anchors."

Tom made a skeptical sound in the back of his throat but didn't further comment. "Allow me."

Hadrian let him reach over and take the compass out of his hands, wondering what he was on to. He turned around to see what his partner was doing and was taken aback at his proximity. Hadrian took a couple of steps back, glad that Tom was currently preoccupied with the compass and didn't notice how flustered he was.

"I doubt our magic alone did this," Tom said, rubbing his fingers over the gems. "This feels completely foreign."

Hadrian was unsurprised Tom could tell this. He'd always known on some level that Voldemort could easily sense magic and it was now confirmed for him. But for Tom to let him see an ability that he so obviously kept guarded affected him in some way he couldn't hope to distinguish.

He watched Tom concentrate while continuing to rub the stones. There was a thoughtful expression on his face, one that suggested he was forming and discarding theories as to why their compass had become more magically powerful than anticipated. If it wasn't the amount of magic they'd given, then what else could it be?

_You're further along than expected. _There was a blend of astonishment and delight in the voice's tone. _Bravo._

Hadrian was more than thoroughly confused. The voice was making even less sense than usual today. Knowing he wouldn't get any answers from it until it was well and ready to share, he forbore asking it anything.

"Hm." Tom's mulling got his attention away from the voice. "I am unable to detect much at this time. I will have to study it more later."

"Be my guest." Hadrian checked the time again; it was five minutes to three. "In the meantime, I would like to get at least some sleep before classes."

With haste, they cleaned up and erased all evidence of having been there. After their customary good nights, they prepared to separate in the Entrance Hall. But just as Hadrian was about to head to the dungeons, he heard Tom call his name.

He turned around to address the other boy. "Yes?"

Hogwarts's Head Boy appeared hesitant for a second. His overconfidence was quick to return, however. "Saturday will be your first venture into Hogsmeade, am I right?"

"That is correct," lied Hadrian, curious as to what he was getting at. Tom made it seem as though he were taking a risk in going to Hogsmeade.

"Then, as you are unfamiliar with the town, I would be willing to serve as your guide," Tom offered mildly, as though he made a habit of it.

Hadrian's reaction, astoundingly, wasn't to be affronted. He should have been. Normally, he would have been. For some reason, he wasn't.

He was stunned. Was this Tom's roundabout way of asking to _escort_ him? It didn't sound that way, but trust Tom Riddle to make it seem as though he were doing Hadrian a favor by wanting to show him around. At the same time, though, it was sort of…nice of him. Would wonders never cease?

"That would be very helpful, Tom," Hadrian said, catching the gleam in Tom's eyes as he said this.

"It's my pleasure." Tom gave him a charming smile.

Hadrian almost expected him to reach over and kiss his hand. It felt amazingly like he was being courted. He should know; he'd been courted countless times before.

Instead, with a complacent air about him, Tom said, "Good night."

Hadrian returned his farewell, watching him turn away to go up the main staircase. When he could no longer see him, Hadrian descended the stairs to the dungeons, pondering everything that had happened.

Tom was behaving strangely towards him. Granted, Hadrian himself had been acting differently as well but, surely, this couldn't be in response to that. Right?

He certainly hoped it wasn't. That would be wholly embarrassing and uncouth.

**000**

Adelina was waiting for him at the top as Hadrian ascended the flight of steps from the boys' dorms. Off to the side, chatting with—or more like overwhelming—a blond boy he could not accurately identify, were Isabella Yaxley and Jezebel.

"Hello, Hadrian," the Selwyn heiress greeted him once he fully entered the common room.

"Afternoon, Adelina," he returned, smiling at her.

"I do hope you are excited for your first trip into Hogsmeade," she professed.

Hadrian nodded, glad that the day had finally arrived as he was beginning to tire of all the people who wished to show him around the town. "I am looking forward to seeing what all the fuss is about."

"In that case, you will not mind accompanying us, will you?" Adelina asked, gesturing to the three behind her.

Hadrian glanced at them. He wasn't overly familiar with Isabella. They'd only exchanged pleasantries up to this point, despite being distantly related (though he was related in some way to almost all of the purebloods here). The boy, however, he had no clue about.

Adelina followed his gaze. "Oh, I see you have not had the pleasure of meeting my cousin," she observed with a smile. "Come, I will introduce you."

Hadrian indulged her since she seemed excited about the prospect. They joined the other three, who paused in their discussion to look at them. Upon closer inspection, Hadrian realized there wasn't much that would give away the fact that Adelina and the boy were cousins.

Except for the blond hair, which was actually more of a gold on the boy, they had no other features in common. The boy had dark brown eyes that appeared almost black and his skin was a little darker, a kind of tan tint that suggested he was a native of a warmer climate. He, more than his cousin, had an exquisite look about him. But then again, Hadrian was more drawn to the male form so that just may be his biased opinion.

"Hadrian, I would like you to meet my cousin, Vitale Sepurcius; he is a fourth year. Vitale, I'm sure you've heard of Hadrian," Adelina presented.

"Pleasure to meet you." He extended his hand and shook the boy's smaller one.

Sepurcius gave him a small smile that curved the sides of his lips up in a catlike manner. "The pleasure is all mine."

Jezebel captured Hadrian's attention when she shifted her dark violet cloak in her arms. "Will you be joining us, then, Hadrian?" she asked in her usual sensual drawl.

"I am terribly sorry but I have already made a prior engagement," Hadrian apologized.

Jezebel's smoky gaze penetrated him as she looked at him through lowered lids and said slyly, "Well, do not let us delay you, then, love."

Hadrian inwardly rolled his eyes at her insinuation. Jezebel simply read too much into the affairs of other people. She was right most of the time, but still. "Excuse me, ladies, Sepurcius. Perhaps we shall see one another in town."

"If so, I do hope you will allow us to have you long enough to visit Honeydukes together," Adelina expressed. "They sell the most scrumptious sweets around Christmas."

Hadrian chuckled lightly. "I will endeavor to join you at such a time."

"Hadrian. You are still here?" Alphard's voice came from behind him.

Hadrian spun around to face him. He was momentarily stunned at the image of his cousin. Alphard was dressed quite majestically in blood red silk robes that were fashioned like the _zhiju_ form of a shenyi. There were intricate luminous designs on the cuffs, collar, lapel, and sash. The sides of his hair were also pinned back while the rest spilled down to his upper back in a semi-traditional Chinese style. He held a dark black cloak in his arm.

"Alphard, you look incredible," Hadrian told him truthfully once he'd taken in the whole picture.

Alphard seemed to glow under the praise. Hadrian wasn't the only one to think so as admiring gazes were directed at him from all over the common room.

Hadrian quickly excused himself from the girls and Sepurcius to pull his cousin aside. "You scoundrel. And, to think, I was under the impression that you did not wish to do this."

Immediately, Alphard's radiance left to be replaced with disenchantment. He laughed nervously. "Why would you think that? Of course not."

"That is good to know. I am sure Noah will be blown away," Hadrian encouraged him, thinking his sudden disquiet stemmed from what he thought his date might think.

Alphard's expression was that of a barely hidden grimace, which he quickly changed into a full grin. "How could he not?" he jested airily.

Hadrian smiled at him in good humor. He was glad that Alphard was once again his usually animated self. "Come on. I'm sure he is eagerly awaiting your arrival."

The Entrance Hall was, naturally, crowded when both cousins arrived. Pringle stood at the doors inspecting each person as Filch had done in Harry's world. Hadrian kept an eye out for both Noah and his appointed guide. Tom was first to show.

"Good afternoon, Hadrian," came the purr of Tom's silky voice before he could be spotted. A second of silence later, he followed with, "Alphard." He too stared at Alphard's attire, though in puzzlement rather than desire or admiration.

"Ah, I see him," Alphard announced. "I shall see you two later—maybe. Have fun."

Faster than Hadrian could respond, Alphard left them and wandered into the crowd. It did not take long for Hadrian to also see Noah who, unfeasibly enough, was even more beautiful than the last time he'd laid eyes on him. He wore bright gold elaborately decorated robes with plain violet embroidery; both embellished and simple at the same time and the young Vaisey carried it off effortlessly.

From here, Hadrian could tell they were exchanging salutations and now, judging from the slight blush on Noah's face, Alphard was probably complimenting him. He watched them with a soft smile until he felt a disturbance in Tom's aura.

He glanced at his partner and almost flinched back in surprise at what he saw. Tom was observing the same scene he'd been, except that his eyes were entirely red and there was a fierce snarl etched onto his face. His fists were clenched and his magic was all over the place.

"Tom?"

"What is Alphard doing with that boy?" Tom asked with deceptive calm.

Hadrian recalled that Alphard had told him Tom still looked out for Noah. Did Tom take it so seriously or was there something else to his anger? And by calling Noah _that boy_, Tom was making it seem as though he did not know him; that his real problem was with _Noah _being with _Alphard_ when, in reality, it was vice versa.

"They have a date planned for today," Hadrian replied straightforwardly.

Tom's jaws clenched tightly. It was a miracle that his piercing glare hadn't yet succeeded in burning Alphard to cinders. Gradually, though, Tom began to calm down, probably having realized that he was in public and someone might tragically witness him in such a state.

"What's the matter?" Hadrian feigned ignorance.

"Nothing," said Tom curtly. He turned away from the Slytherin and Hufflepuff pair to wait to get checked out of the school.

Hadrian joined him in waiting, quietly contemplating this new quandary. A while later, they were before Pringle, who quickly checked them out and let them go on their way to Hogsmeade.

It was a silent journey. Tom held on to remnants of his anger and Hadrian was too busy trying to withstand the biting wind blowing in his face as best he could. But when they entered the town, Hadrian disregarded whatever Tom's problem was as he began to feel a combination of nostalgia and novelty. He came to a stop and just took in his surroundings.

It was a new experience for the Hadrian in him while the Harry in him hadn't been here for months for anything other than business. He missed the bustling atmosphere of the Three Broomsticks while wanting to live through it at the same time and he could practically taste the delicious goods offered in Honeydukes while anticipating it as well.

Tom must have finally gotten over himself and noticed Hadrian was no longer walking alongside him. He came back to stand beside him where he remained before The Three Broomsticks.

"That is The Three Broomsticks," informed Tom. "It is the most popular here."

From his tone of voice, Hadrian could tell Tom did not understand why this was so. He probably thought the inn quite useless.

"If you like, we can go in to get a drink," Tom proposed grudgingly.

Hadrian did want to go in for a warm butterbeer as he was beginning to lose feeling in his fingers, but it would be no fun if his companion was not enjoying himself. "It looks much too crowded. We can come back later when it's a bit calmer."

"My sentiments exactly," Tom agreed with a satisfied smile. "There is a less frequented and more useful shop this way."

He led Hadrian through the High Street, passing where the majority of the students were. Hadrian looked around with interest, acting as if this were his first time. He asked questions about each shop and Tom gave textbook information while his voice belied his feelings on each of them.

He seemed to dislike all the ones that served frivolous purposes and approved of ones that sold practical things. The single eatery he commended was classy and formal. Hadrian was not at all surprised by his tastes. That's why he'd expected it when Tom brought him to Dervish and Banges.

"This is where one can acquire and repair magical instruments," said Tom, coming to a stop.

Hadrian followed him inside when he walked into the shop with confidence. There were more students than he'd expected inside. Hadrian chalked it up to the fact that Christmas was coming and all of Hogsmeade had already prepared for the occasion with many things one could buy as a present. He himself had found it easy when shopping for Cassius's gift.

Their progress into the store was hindered when an employee came to them. He was a kind-looking man a little older than them with unruly black hair and dark blue eyes. He wore a long maroon apron, the shop's name penned on it in gold. He was Hadrian's height, if not an inch shorter. His wand stuck out of a large pocket on the apron.

"Tom! Hello," he greeted, happily surprised. He completely ignored Hadrian's presence.

"Ivan. You have grown," Tom said with a small smile.

The man, Ivan, chuckled. "Yes, finally."

Tom gave him an amusedly bemused look, like what he said was not taken the way he meant it. He asked, "You work with your father now?"

The man shook his head dejectedly. "Not all the time. Father's health is not what it used to be. I help out when I can but I fear I will be co-owning the shop sooner than planned."

"I am sorry to hear that." Tom actually sounded sincere.

"It was bound to happen at some point." The man waved off Tom's concern.

"What is it you do nowadays?" Tom asked curiously. "Did you get that job you were aiming for?"

"Not as of yet. I spoke with the Minister and he is considering me for the position. But, regrettably, I will have to suffer through being in the liaison office for some time," Ivan replied.

Hadrian did not care to be ignored for so long. He especially did not care for the amicable way this man conversed with Tom.

_And the green-eyed monster rears its ugly head._ The voice's input was said with relish.

Hadrian paid it no mind and cleared his throat softly. That got Tom's attention away from the man and on him.

"Ah, Ivan, I would like you to meet someone." Tom said this as though he'd forgotten Hadrian was standing there. "This is Hadrian Black. He recently transferred to Hogwarts from Beauxbatons. Hadrian, this is Ivan Banges, future ambassador of Great Britain."

Banges grinned. "You flatter me so, Tom."

Despite his displeasure, Hadrian put on a polite smile. "It is nice to meet you."

"Hadrian Black, is it? You wouldn't happen to be the son of Regulus Black, would you?" Banges asked.

Hadrian nodded. "The very same."

Banges smiled widely and grabbed his hand to shake. "One of my clients was a student of your father's. He speaks of your family quite fondly—all the time," he revealed happily. He released Hadrian's hand and added, "He says he's known you since you were a young lad."

Hadrian didn't need to ask to whom he was referring. He would need to have a talk with Enné Capet about telling strangers about him. Instead, he asked, "Clients?"

"I help foreigners who have business in Britain; make things more accessible to them, get them in touch with others," Banges filled in. "Somewhat like the opposite of a consul."

Hadrian nodded in understanding. He knew that Enné was in the process of warding a large pureblood ancestral home in Wales. It was the first job in Britain that the Capet would be doing completely without his father's assistance.

"What can I help you with, Tom?" Banges asked.

"I won't be getting anything today. It is Hadrian's first time here so I am showing him around," replied Tom.

"All right, then, I won't hold you for longer," Banges said. He shook Hadrian's hand again. "It was nice meeting you. I can finally put an image to all of Enné's doting. Do come by often, Tom; you as well, Hadrian."

"I will be sure to do that," Tom promised.

Banges left them to go help the other customers. He was very friendly and helpful, as befitted someone who had the kind of job he did and wished to become an ambassador.

"Ivan was one of the only Gryffindors I could stand," Tom enlightened him.

"I do not see what is wrong with Gryffindors," said Hadrian.

Tom chuckled. "Of course not," he said a bit warmly, as though he liked that about Hadrian, which made Hadrian feel better about Ivan Banges's familiarity.

They looked around the shop for a bit, pointing out particular magical items that they liked to each other. Afterward, they left the store and Tom continued to show him the rest of Hogsmeade.

As they were not in places where the students frequented, they hardly saw others from the school. This allowed them to let go since neither of them felt like they had to keep up appearances and they discussed anything and everything freely. Hadrian didn't want it to ever end, and the voice did not cease to point it out the entire way.

Some time later, without Hadrian noticing, they came back onto the High Street. As they were approaching Honeydukes, Hadrian had the feeling someone was watching him and, when he checked, spotted a very smug-looking Jezebel watching them through the display window.

In fact, she was not the only person observing them. Here, where much of the Hogwarts populace was, many eyes scrutinized their every move. And either Tom did not notice this or he did not care because his behavior did not change to the way he usually was when others were there to witness their interaction.

Blissfully going along with this, Hadrian was about to suggest they go into the sweetshop when he sensed a sudden shift in the air. Tom froze and faced him, an inquisitive brow lifted that asked if he too was aware of that.

Before he could answer, there were several cracks heard around the village. Dozens of wizards wearing dark purple robes were suddenly among them. Hadrian felt the weight of Apparition wards pressing in against his magic. A yellow spell shot clear across from Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop to the post office and hit an unsuspecting middle-aged woman. Blood gushed forth where it slammed against her chest.

Screams shook Hogsmeade. People began running in earnest, trying to get away from the now clearly hostile wizards.

Confused, Hadrian dodged people and curses alike while he took out his wand in defense. He observed the damage that was quickly being done as he tried to figure out what the hell was happening.

"Hadrian!" He heard Tom yell. "Move! Let's go!"

Tom tried to pull him along back in the direction of the school where all the students were trying to go, but Hadrian was having none of that. He was not just going to leave these villagers to suffer through this—whatever this was.

"Who are they?" he asked Tom.

Tom gave him a look that said he really ought to know this. "They're Grindelwald's! This is not our fight; we must leave!"

A high-pitched cry caught Hadrian's attention. A Gryffindor girl who looked to be a third year was cornered in-between two of the wizards in the purple robes. Without thought, Hadrian sent four Stunners at them in quick succession. Two hit each of them and they went down heavily.

"I'm not going to leave them like this," Hadrian told his partner and got into a fighting stance.

There he went again. He blamed it on his hero complex. He'd thought he'd been rid of it, to be honest. But now, when his blood was on fire and pure adrenaline coursed through him, it was clear that that would never happen.

Hadrian hadn't realized how much he'd missed this until now. He felt fantastic and he was ready to lay them to waste.

* * *

**TERMS:**

Swan Song - a final performance or effort. This alludes to the fact that Hadrian and Tom's dance around each other has finally come to an end; they are both realizing quite clearly that they want one another.

_n'est-ce pas? _- right? isn't that so?

_Joyeux anniversaire _- Happy birthday

_Mes meilleurs __vœux_ - Best wishes

_Debilito _- to weaken, enfeeble, disable; to enervate, break down

_Arx _- stronghold, citadel, fortress, keep, donjon

_Cessi __is_ _vis vires _- very loosely translated: _Yield to this force_

_Pateo_ - to be revealed, to stand open, to be clear, plain

_Tutamen_ - defense, protection

_Dilabor coram is vis vires _- very loosely translated: _Dissolve in the presence of this force_

_Infigo _- to fix, fasten /to imprint, impress

_Confractura _- breach

_Accipio is vis vires _- very loosely translated: _Accept/recognize this force _

shenyi - type of hanfu (Chinese Silk Robe, historical dress of the Han Chinese people) that is a long full body garment

_zhiju_ - form of shenyi worn primarily by men from the pre-Shang periods to the Han Dynasty

* * *

Edited: 5/12/10


	9. Vital Lightning, Part I

_**Hollow Thunder, Vital Lightning -**__Aariya_

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle

Genre: Drama, Romance, Fantasy, Action/Adventure

Summary: Life after Voldemort is ideal and perfect for everyone except the one who made it possible. Unbelievably bored and unhappy, Harry performs a spell that will take him to an alternate universe where he can be happiest with Voldemort. Even he hadn't expected the outcomes or how the spell would misinterpret his desires.

Warnings: _slash_; AU; Slytherin!Harry; Dark!Harry (sorta)...and another one I took out that you will have to figure out for yourself; it's kind of crucial to the plot so I can't tell you!

Spoilers: Compliant with first five books and includes information from six and seven.

**Disclaimer:** Where in Harry Potter is it possible for Harry and Tom to get together and shag like bunnies? That's right; only in my imagination.

.-.

"HTVL" - English, or other human languages

_HTVL - Thoughts, Spells, Special Text (titles and such)_

_"HTVL" - Parseltongue, Incanted Spells, or a language within a language _

_**HTVL - Parselmagic (spells and the language in writing)**_

Chapter 9: Vital Lightning, Part I

* * *

"They're Grindelwald's! This is not our fight; we must leave!"

Tom realized Hadrian had no intention of doing so when he saved the Gryffindor girl. His eyes were blazing with determination and there was that glint of challenge he'd habitually reserved for Tom in them. He knew what that meant; there was no going back now.

"I'm not going to leave them like this," said Hadrian, his magic thrumming excitedly in anticipation of the first real fight for months and months.

Before Tom could convince him otherwise, Hadrian put himself in the middle of the ensuing melee. He evaded stray and deliberate curses with graceful ease, fired off his own with perfect precision and speed, and Tom took this all in with some appreciation of his superior skill, even if he disapproved of what he was doing.

He'd never seen Hadrian fight like that. When it was just the two of them, he was more formal and adhered to most of the dueling rules. He wasn't this…_wild_, _passionate, exhilarated_, as though he were exactly where he was meant to be—in his element. And Tom was beyond captivated.

Hadrian sidestepped a Cruciatus and spun out of the way of the Killing Curse when it came from the opposite direction at the same time. He fired off a Propulsion Charm and pulled the man he knew had tried to kill him in the direction of the man who'd thrown the Cruciatus. Unprepared, the two of them smacked together violently.

In their daze, Hadrian quietly cast the Parseltongue equivalent of _Incarcerous _on them. This insured that only a Parselmouth could break the spell, and he was sure Tom wouldn't be untying them anytime soon. He summoned their wands and promptly broke them.

His Supersensory Charm then let him know a spell was coming at him from behind and he quickly jumped out of the way. Expecting for it to zip past him, he was surprised to see that nothing came.

"What are you doing?" Tom hissed once Hadrian turned around to face him, his wand gripped tightly in his hand.

Hadrian had almost forgotten that Tom was with him, so lost had he been in the moment. He then realized that Tom had deflected the spell, and looked none too happy about it. He was glaring off to the right at a fallen man, who Hadrian assumed had been the one trying to curse him.

"Why are you wasting time doing that?" Tom gestured to the two bound wizards at their feet. "Just incapacitate them; you do not have the leisure to be doing all this."

_Force of habit_, Hadrian thought wryly. He'd been behaving like he had during the war after he'd felled a Death Eater for the Aurors to take away. Tom was right. Now was not the time to be doing this.

"Ah, you are right," Hadrian admitted. "I got a little carried away."

Tom raised a brow, wondering how that was possible. Unless Hadrian was in the business of frequently holding off raids, his actions were quite curious. The way he fought belied that he was well-acquainted with fighting in this kind of environment.

It was unlikely, however. His partner hadn't even known who these wizards were. Besides Grindelwald, there wasn't anyone else who would attack. There was no way he could have been in a situation like this before. Then again, it might just be the way the Black battled, as odd as that was.

"Then," Tom began dryly, "you would do well not to let that—"

But Hadrian never got to hear the end of that because he was off like a shot again. He zipped past Tom, down the street past the post office, and came to a stop in front of The Three Broomsticks. Tom had not even had a chance to catch his breath before he was there.

_Blasted boy! _Tom thought in frustration, thinking his partner was dead set on getting himself killed today. Tom maneuvered himself between villagers, students, and attackers alike to get to the inn. Wandering spells were watched out for and deflected with a simple swish and overenthusiastic duelists tossed aside in his haste.

The closer he got, the better Tom could see what had caught Hadrian's attention. It was a very strange situation to walk in on. Hadrian staunchly stood there with his wand pointed unwaveringly at one of Grindelwald's men, the fury of the gods in him. His eyes were frigid, his jaws set tightly, and a fearsome glower twisted his face. Tom could understand his anger, because a ferocious one to surpass it was currently building up in his chest.

The wizard in the purple robes had his own wand directed at Cassius Zabini, but his cloaked face was watching Hadrian. Zabini had a very glazed look in his eyes and was aiming his wand at a bleeding Noah, shielded behind Alphard, who himself had Zabini at chest point, an unusually contemptuous expression on his face.

Tom ignored the implication that Zabini might be under the Imperius Curse. To him, it was just another infraction on his long list. _How _dare _he hurt Noah?_ He did not wait for Hadrian to do something in this standstill. He wouldn't do what was necessary and strike down Zabini. But Tom suffered from no such affliction.

A malicious smile marred his handsome face as he aimed his wand at Zabini. At last, he could dish out some of the punishment this little urchin deserved. Wickedly delighted, he sent a powerful Reductor Curse at Zabini's shoulder. Indeed, so powerful that the Ravenclaw was thrown bodily across the village and flopped before the railway station, where he lied like a rag doll.

While the unidentified man, Noah, and Alphard all turned to him in surprise, Hadrian used the moment of distraction to Stun the wizard. Alphard helped Noah stand up fully as he had begun to sag from the pain at his bloodied rib. He put the smaller boy's left arm around his shoulders and bent down a little to support his height.

Tom strolled over to inspect the damage but was suddenly faced with Hadrian's displeasure. "Was that necessary?" He pointed at Zabini's limp, unmoving body.

"He was a danger to others and himself," Tom sneered, though he cared not for whatever danger Zabini posed to himself. He gestured at Noah and bit out heatedly, "For that, he deserves much worse than what I've given him."

"I'm all right, Tom," Noah spoke up, his voice weak.

Tom turned to him. "No, you most certainly are not. Let me see that," he commanded.

Noah removed his hand from his left side to show where the blood had soaked through his robes. Tom directed his magic at the area, trying to feel out what kind of spell had been used. His anger rose when he found it to be a malevolent curse bordering on Dark magic that was supposed to have sliced straight through Noah's side and should have very well killed him. Some of it had evidently been blocked.

Tom could mend the broken bones for the time being and reduce the pain, but a trained mediwizard or healer would be needed for full recovery. He did what he could, then wrapped Noah in gauze so he wouldn't upset the injury too much before he had a chance to go to the infirmary.

Noah stood up straighter, a contemplative look on his face as he moved experimentally. Then he smiled at Tom and softly said, "Thank you, Tom. I no longer feel any pain."

Hadrian watched this with astonishment. Tom seemed to actually genuinely care about how Noah felt. He treated him like a younger brother—albeit one who didn't know better and had to be practically spoon-fed. Not for the first time, he wondered what the story was behind the Slytherin heir and the Hufflepuff.

"Are you all right, Alphard?" Hadrian asked his cousin, noticing a smear of thick blood blending in with his robes. It was probably Noah's but he had to be sure.

Alphard nodded. He looked at the spot and cast a spell on it. Though it disappeared, there was a small stain left behind. Silk robes such as those required special care. "I'm fine. It's Noah who jumped before the curse meant for _me_," he said, throwing the aforementioned boy an exasperated look. "Zabini came out of nowhere; I hardly had enough time to shield against the attack."

"It's not his fault," Hadrian felt the need to defend Cassius. And since when had Alphard referred to Cassius by his surname, anyway?

Tom shot him a dark look, annoyed that Zabini was getting such undeserved sympathy. "It is for being too weak."

"There are a limited amount of people capable of throwing off the Imperius," Hadrian retorted indignantly. "You cannot fault him for that."

Though he desperately would have liked to say what he thought of that, Tom did not wish to fight on account of Zabini, of all people. Instead, he made a slight noise of discontent and left it at that. Turning to the two other boys, one who was staring at them in concern—Noah, of course—and another with barely concealed wonder, Tom ordered, "Quit dallying and leave this place at once. Alphard, I expect him to reach the castle without further injury."

Alphard was in no position to contradict the look that promised immense pain should he fail to comply, so he nodded his head. Hadrian then, struck with an idea, pulled Alphard aside before the two could leave. Tom looked on with interest, wondering what they were being so secretive about.

"What's wrong?" Alphard questioned once Tom and Noah were out of earshot.

"You remember that passageway I showed you?" Hadrian asked urgently, aware they didn't have much time before they were noticed.

Alphard had an expression of dawning realization on his face. He confirmed excitedly, "The Honeydukes one?"

"Yes, that one. I want you to lead all the students you can through it," Hadrian said. "There's no way they have knowledge of it, much less have it sealed off."

"How will that be possible?" Alphard asked worriedly. "All of them are at that end."

This was true. Most of the attack was happening where he and Tom had just left. Grindelwald's men weren't giving the students any chance to reach here, where they had access to the trail leading back to the school.

Hadrian's face hardened with determination. He refused to let these students die if he could do something about it. "Leave it to me."

This in no way appeased Alphard, but sent him into the most passionate fury Hadrian could ever remember his cousin directing at him. "What!" he exclaimed, no doubt knowing exactly what he intended to do. "You're going to fight them? No, Hadrian! I refuse to leave you here!"

"It's not the time to argue about this, Alphard!" Hadrian reasoned, placing his hands on Alphard's shoulders and squeezing them. "Trust me, I know what I'm doing."

Alphard pulled away, shaking his head vehemently. "Yeah, attempting to get yourself killed! Don't try to be a hero, Hadrian; leave that to the fucking Gryffindors."

Hadrian almost mentioned he had a healthy amount of Gryffindor in him, just to stop him arguing back. "Please, try to understand. We're the only ones who can help them, or, at the end of the day, a lot less students will have gone back to Hogwarts than left."

Alphard scowled at him fiercely, presumably for guilting him into it. He scoffed and bit out, "You're a right Slytherin when you want to be, Hadrian, I'll give you that."

Hadrian grinned, relieved, and pulled his cousin into a hug. "Thanks, Alphard. I won't be long."

"I should hope not," sniffed Alphard, clearly still disgruntled about the plan, and, for once, letting some of that ingrained pureblooded disdain seep through. But he hugged him back tightly anyway, even as he continued sharply, "How you aspire to do this alone is beyond me, but should you come out of it anything but unscathed, I shall be very displeased."

"Alone for what?" interrupted Tom before Hadrian could reassure his cousin, strolling over with Noah and forcing them to break apart from their embrace.

"Hadrian wants me to lead the students out while he distracts Grindelwald's men," Alphard informed, a frown creasing his brows.

Tom noted the frown and his pinched eyes and quickly deduced how Hadrian proposed to serve as a distraction. He turned to Hadrian, but instantly knew from his resolute countenance that he wouldn't be dissuaded so Tom abandoned the endeavor before he could begin. Besides, he refused to get in another argument while Noah and Alphard watched on.

But he would be damned if he left Hadrian alone for this, even if he disagreed with his plan. The very thought of someone assailing him while Tom himself was in the safety of the castle sent a cold front running through his veins. It wouldn't be too hard to slice his way through the enemy's defenses to get himself back to Hogwarts, but he wouldn't be at ease knowing Hadrian was staying and_ actively_ _participating _in the attack.

Mind made up, Tom announced, "He shall not be alone."

The other three looked at him with surprise—and Hadrian not without a little pleasure, Tom noted. That certainly served as recompense for his very uncharacteristic gesture. He never helped people without receiving something in return, whether it be in a short time or in the long run.

Hadrian understood Tom didn't need any more thanks than that or he'd probably really start to regret offering his help. He wondered, however, why the Slytherin heir was willing to stay back with him. Unless he was going to get something out of it, Tom Riddle did not care for other people.

That both boys were thinking the exact same thing greatly amused the voice. It served as further proof of their compatibility. And it was about time they let the other know their inner thoughts.

"Don't move until it's safe," Hadrian warned Alphard, already beginning to make his way back to the Honeydukes section. He shouted back, "Wait for my signal!"

"What's the signal?" Alphard hollered.

Hadrian continued sprinting past the sweetshop as he called, "You'll know!"

Before joining him, Tom threw Alphard a threatening glare and moved forward to stand over him. "I do hope I don't have to tell you what will happen to you should Noah come to any more harm," he whispered, conveying everything in the sentence.

Surprisingly unflinching, Alphard's expression became tight in response. "Then _you'd_ better make sure Hadrian comes out all right," he boldly retorted.

Tom's wand was abruptly under his chin, digging into him with a fatal curse waiting on its tip. He heard Noah's gasp as his eyes narrowed at Alphard's gall. "Watch your mouth, Black; you're on thin ice," he snarled, rather sure that his eyes were entirely red now. "You would do well to remember how utterly expendable you are."

Absolutely vibrating from the rage working its way through his body, Tom did not stick around for his doubtless foolhardy response. His cousin's presence seemed to be giving Alphard unwarranted nerve, and it would only be a matter of time before Tom was forced to correct his behavior. Oh, he was _so_ looking forward to the day when Alphard stepped over the line.

Fueled by this unforeseen wrath, he walked with forbidding grace toward where Hadrian was enthusiastically setting himself to his task. He was currently engaged with two opponents, his steps unbelievably light as he flitted from one to the other.

The ease with which he handled the two wizards wasn't what caught Tom's eye. It was the expression of unadulterated exhilaration on his face, the intense blaze in his eyes. His long hair didn't appear to be a hindrance as it was whipped along in the harsh wind every time he made a swift or sudden motion. It only intensified his beauty, and others might underestimate him because of it, but it would be their downfall if they made that foolish mistake.

Hadrian was without doubt someone who was made for combat, who thrived on it. There was no place else he would shine more than on the battlefield. And Tom _had_ to have him—_needed_ to have him. He wouldn't be satisfied until he was among his ranks.

Maybe he could convince him if he were to replace Renatus with him. Granted, the Lestrange would throw a spectacular tantrum, but nothing that couldn't be handled. He certainly couldn't fight like this, certainly never tied with or bested Tom in a duel, much less had the guts to challenge him.

_What, you believe he will settle for being one of your minions?_ The voice laughed. _You don't know him as well as you seem to think you do, then._

Tom frowned sourly, wondering what he'd done to have this irksome entity still plaguing his mind. Though, he had to acknowledge, Tom knew what it said was true. Hadrian was much more than just a mere follower, and he was too proud to settle for being a subordinate.

This was not the best time to figure out what standing Hadrian would have, however. He expertly swished his wand as more wizards tried to join the fight Hadrian was in. They were starting to surround the Shadow Lord so Tom fought his way to the middle, all the while wondering why he was being so reckless as to put himself in such a position.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he was back-to-back with his partner. Except, this time, they weren't getting set for a duel. Tom could feel the magic blistering across Hadrian's skin where their backs met and, like always, his magic rose in response to its proximity.

Every spell he fired off felt ten times more effective with Tom behind him. Hadrian was even beginning to speculate—unlikely though it was with his Occlumency shields in place—that the other Slytherin was reading his mind with how well they were coordinating.

Hadrian turned around and aimed an Entrail-Expelling Curse at one of the violet-robed wizards and watched satisfactorily as the man's insides fell out for all to see. He masked his signature with the Shadows so the Dark spell wouldn't be traced back to him. Tom was forced to turn as well to cover their back and draw a shield when a bright orange spell came at them. He immediately retaliated with an Organ Removing Curse, enjoying the abrupt manner in which the wizard dropped, now lacking the vitals needed to keep him alive.

One of Grindelwald's men proved to be more of a challenge when he got close enough to knock his large elbow into Hadrian's nose, which quickly opened and poured out blood.

"Son of a bitch!" Pissed off, Hadrian didn't even bother with a spell. He punched his jaw, then grabbed him by his head and brought his knee up into his face with all the strength he could manage.

Once he fell to the ground, Hadrian took possession of his shadow and wrapped it around him. The shadows seeped into the wizard's mind, in search of his deepest fears. After he found them, Hadrian Constructed a situation in which the man was perpetually stuck reliving his worst nightmares. His wretched screams put a temporary stop to the chaos, filling every corner of the town.

The wizard's pleads went unheard as Hadrian stood watching him, his nose still busted and gushing blood. Tom healed him of the injury, not quite managing to feel sorry for the man who'd been stupid enough to dare to strike him. He was very curious as to how Hadrian was eliciting those screams, however. _His _Cruciatus couldn't draw forth screams that reached such intense decibels, and his Cruciatus was a wretchedly excruciating thing, indeed. It was admirable, really. As Hadrian hadn't used his wand, he'd guess he was employing his Shadows.

Hadrian's actions brought more of Grindelwald's forces to them. Clearly identifying the two of them as the real threat, they began to swarm them, leaving behind their earlier post, which had surely been Hadrian's primary goal. They blasted students and patrons aside on their way, and, though it pained him that this was happening, it was all Hadrian could do to keep up with the abrupt barrage of spells that were coming at he and Tom.

He deflected the strongest of the spells, but wrapped the Shadows around himself and Tom to keep away the weaker ones. While he handled the shielding, Tom displayed his truly formidable dueling skills by doing some of the fastest spell casting Hadrian had ever seen. A mere twitch of his wand was all it took to simultaneously bring down four wizards, a harsh slash caused a break in their ranks and gave Tom and he more room to work.

And, the thing was, the longer they kept up their synchronicity, the more adrenaline they felt rushing through them. It was as though their magic, together, was capable of anything. Trite, but very true.

Other students quickly joined when they saw they actually had a fighting chance. Prominent among them were the seventh-year Gryffindors, and Tom didn't want to dwell on what that said about him as he was taking the same rash path.

Surprisingly, though, they weren't the only Slytherins in the thick of it for long. Renatus wasn't far from him while he fought alongside Abraxas. Several feet away, he could see the impressive duo that was Antonin and Devan, causing almost as much damage as he and Hadrian were.

Tom knew they would not have fought had he not been doing so. These were pureblood wizards who supported Grindelwald's plight, and they did not want to be seen as actively defying the Dark Lord. Their loyalty to him, however, superseded their previous beliefs, and, though this was no time to admire his work, he proudly recognized this as the result of his meticulous conditioning.

It reminded him why Renatus was his right-hand, and how unrealistic his earlier thought of replacing him with Hadrian had been. That kind of loyalty was almost impossible to come by and he doubted—no, he _knew _Hadrian would never show him half as much. As much as he would have liked to have someone like Hadrian who could coordinate with him and had the power to back it up, it wasn't as though there was a line of them promising to be the equivalent of faithful waiting around for him.

"_Expecto Patronum!"_

Tom's attention was abruptly turned to what was happening behind him when he heard the shouted incantation. He hadn't felt a dementor's presence, so why was Hadrian currently blinding everyone in his immediate vicinity by casting the spell? He spun around to see a large, silvery apparition coming forth from Hadrian's wand.

As it formed into a semi-transparent black mamba Patronus, Tom noted the surprised look that crossed Hadrian's face, as though the result of the charm was a most unexpected one. The wizards around them stared perplexedly at the long snake, probably wondering, like him, why Hadrian had bothered to conjure it.

He found the answer to his unasked question when Hadrian snapped out of his shock and instructed the Patronus to find Alphard and let him know it was safe to move. Ah, so this was the signal.

The snake slithered past the feet of the purple-robed wizards, and some of them jumped comically out of its way, though they had to know it was only a Patronus. Tom scoffed at their stupidity and watched the snake's progress until he could no longer see it among the mass of people. He wouldn't have pegged Hadrian as the type to have a black mamba for a Patronus, and was a bit fascinated by the outcome.

Hadrian was thinking along the same lines. A small part of him was captivated by the sight of his Patronus, the part that hadn't ever known any differently. But the largest part of him was very upset at the prospect of an altered Patronus. He'd been expecting to see his customary stag and couldn't figure out why he didn't. Either way, he wasn't happy with the change, and was going to try his best to get it back.

A deep, heavily German-accented voice growled, "You cannot tistract us vid your fancy little tricks, boy!" He curved his wand and aimed a bright blue curse at Hadrian. "Eider fight properly, or get out of de vay and let de men hantle dis!"

Hadrian deftly dodged the spell, and smirked at the cloaked man. "Yeah?" he drawled. "How do you like this _trick, _then?" Casually flicking his wand, he hissed, "_Sepultura._"

For a moment, nothing happened, and the man chuckled cruelly at his seemingly failed curse. And then he burst into flames, as though he were made of something combustible and had been exposed to an element that set him off. The only thing that could be seen where he once stood was a blaze the size and width of his body, and all that could be heard was the crackling of the fire and his loud, pain-filled screams.

"Brought to you by yours truly. Beautiful, isn't it?" Hadrian sneered, watching with dispassionate eyes as the burning body fell to the ground. "One of my more inspired spells, if I do say so myself. Clearly, I don't have to tell _you _that."

Tom was more shocked than he cared to admit at this previously hidden sadistic side to the gentle-yet-occasionally-devious Hadrian he knew. _Merlin, _he'd never been so aroused in his life. He forcefully had to will away his growing erection because that wicked smirk on Hadrian's normally mild features was threatening his self-control.

Two of the men closest to their smoldering comrade angrily slashed their wands in Hadrian's direction, but Tom immediately deflected their spells and summarily disarmed them. Out of their stunned stupor, the rest around he and Hadrian began to fire at them, and the fight on their end was back in full swing.

Spells and curses of all colors were suddenly being thrown around with alarming speed. It begged the question of how Hadrian expected Alphard to get the students to safety when any stray spell could hit them. Tom laid the thought aside and gave his full focus to simultaneously shielding and firing when Hadrian seemed to be busy with an especially powerful spell, if the way his eyes were closed in concentration was any indication.

Anyone close enough to feel it shuddered when Hadrian released his Shadows in a large-scale Clouding and Deflecting maneuver that was usually meant for buildings. He expanded it and covered the entire trail on either side that led to Honeydukes.

It was a narrow path since the attack was widely spread out, but it was the best he could do without potentially putting some of Grindelwald's men in the bubble. His changed Patronus would make sure Alphard and the other people stayed within the Clouded area, so it should be okay.

Despite himself, Hadrian spun around with concern bordering on panic when he heard Tom groan. He need not have worried, he embarrassedly learned, because the Slytherin heir looked truly murderous as he observed the group of wide-eyed wizards before him. Apparently they'd launched a coordinated attack on Tom and struck his upper thigh, which was bleeding through the fabric of his robes.

The amount of magic flowing through Tom at that moment was orgasmic, and Hadrian's own magic felt as though it were drawing strength from it. Or that Tom's was drawing from his. He really couldn't tell where the channel connecting their magic started or ended, and it seemed as though they were sharing the same power.

If Tom had thought their earlier connection was strong, it was nothing like the strength this one was currently pouring into his magic. From thought alone, he healed the wound dealt him by these weak fools, and from only a small twitch of his wand, all five of them were flung fifty feet away from his person, hearts cursed to explode within their chests.

Empowered by that sight and by the feel of Hadrian once again at his back, Tom incapacitated the next two that ran at him with even more ease. Hadrian and he slipped back into their previous dance of synchronizing their movements so well that Grindelwald's men seemed pitiful by comparison.

Hadrian went one way and Tom went the other, dodging, shielding, deflecting, and then retaliating with their own curses to drop each wizard who stepped forward in the place of another. The circle was lessening slowly by the combined effort of the two powerful wizards in the middle and the other students and townspeople who'd joined in the battle.

Hadrian was so caught up in what he was doing that he didn't notice Alphard was moving until he heard a marked difference in the noise level. There was a lot less high-pitched shrieking. And he wasn't the only one to have noticed.

A clutter of cloaked men closest to the path he'd cleared watched as several of the younger students were simultaneously yanked into the shielded area. While Hadrian could see that Alphard, Noah, and a couple of other students behind the invisible barrier were pulling them in, he knew that no one else could. Nonetheless, the wizards were not stupid and could understand what was happening.

"Dey are trying to get avay!" one of them yelled, sounding outraged. He aimed a string of spells at a pair of disappearing legs. "Stop dem!"

Hadrian trusted Tom (And, damn, didn't that sound odd?) and the others with the fight before him and concentrated all his efforts on the Shadows he'd used to blanket Honeydukes. Deflecting wouldn't be strong enough to hold back every spell thrown, and there was only one ability that could sufficiently distribute the Shadows to take on all the wizards at the same time.

His own: Scattering.

He'd discovered his Shadow ability completely by accident, which wasn't all that unusual, actually. In fact, almost every Shadow Lord except Lord Zephyrus and Lord Telemachus Leofric had stumbled upon their ability (or _abilities _in Lord Zephyrus's case) during a time of great need. His time of need had been during the war in the old universe when several Death Eaters had cornered him in a scrimmage at Diagon Alley while he'd also been nursing a wounded abdomen and a boulder-sized migraine caused by the nearness of Voldemort.

His scar had bled profusely into his eyes and face because he'd been unable to maintain his Occlumency walls whilst trying to direct his magic to heal the gash across his middle and attempting to defend against curses at the same time. Desperate and almost about to fall over from exhaustion, he'd gathered all the shadows in sight in a last ditch effort to use his Shadows to do _something_.

The something turned out to be the Shadows practically acquiring a mind of their own and engulfing him, and then scattering to all corners of the alley. To the Death Eaters, it appeared as though he'd used some strange spell that transformed him into several dim, shadowy grayish-black versions of himself, and then propelled each one in different directions. They'd chased after every form and left him still standing there, befuddled and staring after his Scattered Shadows, though he could vaguely sense where each piece had gone.

Since then, he'd honed the ability to perfection, and had even discovered different sides to it. Not only could it dispel the Shadows and his own shadow in a way that made it impossible to find him, he could create as many as he wanted, like an army, and use them to attack numerous people at the same time by making them enter their body. Although the only abilities he could use while Scattering were Trailing, Constructing, Trapping, Switching, and Possessing, that was more than enough for him.

In fact, right now all he needed was Possessing, Lord Telemachus's painstakingly calculated discovery. Understandable, as possessing someone or something wasn't something one could do on accident. There was a lot of focus and hard-nosed drive involved in the process, and just _wanting _a result wasn't sufficient—it had to be worked at.

Scattering always filled him with a warmth of great pride, more than he'd ever felt for mastering a particularly difficult spell. He supposed it was because it was _his _contribution to the Shadows, and the thought that even Shadow Lords a million years after him would still be using it gave him an overwhelming sense of accomplishment.

Now was no different, and the familiar warmth was rushing through him as he let the Shadows unravel and seep in through his targets' ears, nostrils, mouths, or eyes, using his wand to disguise the sudden way all seven wizards froze up to make it look like a spell. Concentrating his efforts, he altered the Shadows' intent to Possess them. He twisted the wizards' minds against one another, like he had with the _Creatures of the Undead_ during his last duel against Tom.

The affect was immediate. All seven wizards turned on their own side, jumping into the foray with a single-minded determination and forgetting all about the students escaping into the sweetshop. But their possession also had the added benefit of distracting more of Grindelwald's men as they tried to defend themselves from cloaked wizards who were supposed to be on their side.

Hadrian knew he couldn't keep it up for long, but he didn't need to. It wouldn't take long for some of the students to get to Hogwarts and alert the professors, particularly Dumbledore. Frankly, he was surprised that the attack had been contained within Hogsmeade and that word hadn't reached Hogwarts or the Ministry already. He understood that the men sent today probably weren't the best Grindelwald had to offer. They were obviously only here for shock value, but Grindelwald had also clearly prepared for it because whatever he'd done to delay backup, it was working.

Tom was not oblivious to the drop in noise either. While there was still a cacophony of sounds—angry yells, pained screams, shouted spells, and the occasional "NO!" (or something equally as dramatic)—he could no longer hear pleas for help, which only meant that the younger students and the town's mothers and children weren't caught up in the attack any more.

He couldn't tell how Hadrian and Alphard were managing to get them out, but he knew that's what the Shadow Lord was currently occupied with. If the way some of Grindelwald's men were attacking their own forces was any indication, the Shadows were certainly busy at work under their Lord's guide.

Then it was up to Tom to make sure these wizards rued the day they attacked the town of Hogsmeade while he was still in it. If they thought this was the worst he could do, then they were sorely mistaken.

The speed with which curses were flying out of his wand increased to an astonishing rate. He was unparalleled when it came to this. He'd not met anyone who could hold a candle to his ability to juggle so many spells at once. Hadrian had come closest, but he knew even he was no match for him in his element. Tom did not need to see if his spell struck before he was moving onto the next one. He didn't need to; he hardly ever missed when against an opponent who was inferior to him. These wizards certainly qualified.

The sight of Owen Padrig writhing under what was obviously a prolonged Cruciatus, however, had him coming to a halt. The Gryffindor was at the mercy of two violet-robed men to Tom's left, obscured a little by Renatus and Abraxas in the middle of their own fight with three others.

Tom's admittedly large sadistic side relished the way Padrig twitched and screamed, and he was loath to do anything about it. But the even larger calculating, opportunistic part of him saw this for the wonderful chance it was. So, with that in mind, he cast the Double Transference Curse.

A long, thin gold strand left his wand and he directed it to trail unseen past all the feet in the way of his targets. Once it reached the two men, the gold thread looped around one of their ankles each, and then another strand separated from the other loops to wrap around Padrig's midsection. The purpose of the curse was to shift whatever spell the receiver was under to the caster, and then to change the degree of it to make it twofold.

It was a specialty of his, and the recipients were currently feeling his perfection of the curse as the pathetic Cruciatus Padrig had been experiencing was turned on them to the level it should have been—that he had also perfected—and then doubled. Padrig's body shuddered in the aftereffect and he was obviously out for the count, but the wizards standing over him were the ones who felt the full extent of it now.

He was an expert on the Cruciatus, and Tom could tell that if he'd intervened a little later, the damage done to Padrig's nerves would have been irreparable. He couldn't even enjoy the result of his spellwork, though, as he was already getting back to the fight. But, for a moment, he savored the feeling of having someone he couldn't stand owing him a life debt, especially when they didn't know it.

Just imagining how and when he could capitalize on this had Tom practically frothing at the mouth—except he would never do anything so undignified.

Behind him, he heard Hadrian's sigh of exhaustion. However many spells the pureblood was maintaining, it couldn't have been easy. Hadrian was putting his all into this, and though Tom certainly wasn't, he'd decided to stay back for his partner—even if his healthy Slytherin sense of self-preservation was repulsed by the idea—and he intended to have his back.

Tom's magic surged up of its own volition and sought out the other Slytherin's active one. He sensed its usual eagerness at the proximity of his compatible magic and it met him halfway.

Their magic twined together in a delicious way that was better than any sex he'd ever had, and it was only because they were in the middle of a battle that he was refraining from taking Hadrian right then and there. It was different from the way they'd connected earlier. Before, they'd drawn power from the bond and their harmony had been purely coincidental.

This time, however, he consciously felt every little thing that Hadrian was doing and his magic not only helped, but it worked to spread the effect—and Hadrian's was doing the same in return. He could feel where each possessed wizard was and what they were doing, and his magic stretched out to control them that much longer. He could see past the magic that had been making his eyes slide past Honeydukes, and he aided in keeping it there and increasing its reach over the concealed path.

Even though he'd never encountered the Shadows, it was like a familiar companion to him now. It didn't have the same impression as any magic he'd ever come upon, but he thought he could recognize it from across the continent, as though he'd known it his entire life and it was _his _instead of Hadrian's, or that the force was shared between them.

The voice in their head was crowing delightedly, _Yes! Yes!_

The sensation was so utterly invasive that had Tom been told about it before experiencing it, he'd have been adamant about never doing it. But now that it was happening, he felt as if he'd never be able to go back to a time when he and Hadrian's magic was separate and empty and weaker without the other. A world where he could never replicate this sense of substance and vitality. And it was the most overwhelming thing he'd ever felt.

Tom had a hard time telling their magic apart. Neither of their magical signature felt the same any more, and it was quite on odd sensation knowing his magic was there for him to use but being unable to identify exactly _where _it was. But, at the same time, it was a somehow familiar sensation, though he couldn't quite place exactly why that was.

The battle went on and activity around them only seemed to intensify, but their connection held up, driving them to take more advantage of it and use it to the fullest. The joint force was much too powerful to contain between them and it sprawled out, phantom magical muscles stretching and spreading its influence.

One didn't have to be magic sensitive to be aware of the amount of power surrounding the pair. Even those who weren't in the circle where most of the attack was concentrated were aware of it. Hadrian himself, who was co-channeling it—though he was having a hard time recognizing the signature as one that had ever been a part of him—shuddered in the presence of all that bone-chilling magic.

Their enemies were noticeably intimidated, but they fought on anyway, no doubt keen on completing their mission; whatever that was, because it certainly wasn't to cause the most damage they could. The Death Eaters would have killed dozens of people by now had their only resistance in Hogsmeade been inexperienced students (with only a smattering of skilled ones) and residents defending their town.

If they'd been having problems with Tom and Hadrian before, however, they were now no match for the crushing force of their combined magic. Using this previously untapped power was akin to the most natural thing in the world, even more so than when he'd finally gotten the hang of the Shadows and something inside him just clicked and sighed with pleasure, like he'd finally come home after a long time.

_Because it _is _more natural than anything else, _the voice supplied, sounding very smug and pleased.

Hadrian might have paused to analyze what it meant by that if he hadn't been busy with creating an impenetrable shield around them so they could fire spells without wasting time defending against all the curses coming at them from several different directions. Keeping up his Shadows at the same time while Tom also used the magic to continue taking wizards down at a rapid speed was child's play. They seemed to have a limitless amount at their disposal from their combined power.

Because of his innate ability, Tom was the first to feel the fleeting squeezing sensation that suddenly replaced the previous weight of the Anti-Apparition Jinx, though that too had only been an awareness at the back of his mind after the initial casting. A split second after, Hadrian sensed it, and it wasn't until it happened again that others began to feel it as well.

Tom used the vast magic literally at his fingertips to extend his magical perception to the wards hanging heavily over the town and go beyond it to figure out what kind of interference was causing the tremors. It took him a lot less time than usual to pinpoint the kind of magic at hand. That they were counters for the Anti-Apparition Jinx was obvious, but Tom could even attribute the magic being used to Aurors.

So, word had finally reached the incompetent Ministry.

"Aurors?" Hadrian's whispered confirmation brought Tom out of the growing layer challenging the layer already enclosing Hogsmeade. Tom responded with a minuscule nod.

The two weren't the only ones to figure out that Aurors were the cause of the faltering ward. Some of the purple-cloaked wizards withdrew from the fight and joined in a separate, smaller circle to—most likely—reinforce the wards.

Tom exchanged glances with Hadrian, and they understood each other from that gaze alone. Hadrian released the Shadows' possession of the seven wizards and drew the now-free energy into their shared power. They both concentrated their magic on the wards and aided the Aurors' efforts to break through them.

Hadrian's first thought was that the Aurors should take a ward breaking course with his father, instead of whoever was teaching them this weak attempt at the delicate art. But he couldn't fix the approach now that the Aurors were already underway, so Tom and he had to advance with a lack of subtlety his father would have been appalled to learn his son had ever even considered using. (_Have I taught you __**nothing**__?_)

What they lacked in finesse, however, they more than made up for in the strength they provided to back up the ward breaking in progress. Actually, they more than just 'provided.' With the amount of resistance the Aurors were offering, the wizards challenging the collapse could soon after cover any crack they made in the ward. Counterproductive and time-consuming. They were lucky Tom and Hadrian were powerful enough to have the raw magic needed to be able to use brute force on something this delicate and tricky.

They directed their magic to wind around the wavering wards tightly, insinuating themselves in the space between the sheet of countercurses cautiously hovering over the ward and the original jinx. Figurative magical muscles flexed, grasped, and then yanked.

It wasn't easy pulling down wards set by several people, and it certainly wasn't supposed to be possible for two people only assisted by feeble countercurses to do it. But they managed it just fine. The wards came crashing down with such force that the wizards maintaining it staggered from the abrupt release.

The pleasure that came from using so much magic in tandem was almost too much for Tom and Hadrian. It was ten times stronger and more intoxicating than their charged duels. The stimulation received from it had them practically vibrating, and the already persistent arousal only seemed to peak when their eyes met. Breathing harshly, everything happening around them—the cracking sounds heralding the arrival of dozens of Aurors after the collapsing of the ward, the nearly instant stillness that took over the entire town, the added ecstatic cries of "Here comes Dumbledore!" and "Professor!", the collective sighs of relief—merely fell away, and only the two of them remained. Neither could bear it for much longer.

All the tension that had built up between them burst out in the most unexpected place and during a wholly inappropriate moment, though it was in the only way it could have.

Tom flowed like water, moving fluidly forward to meet Hadrian halfway, who was no less hasty in reaching for him. His arm wound around Hadrian's waist and hips as though the place was molded for him. His hand came up, fingers grasping Hadrian's neck to keep him steady. Hadrian's fingers tangled in his hair firmly enough to hurt if he had the capacity of mind to think beyond the cool skin beneath his hand and the bright eyes fixed on him—and then they were coming together perfectly, deliciously, magnificently.

Hadrian was moaning even before their lips touched, and he echoed him directly after. Then their lips did touch and it was much better than Tom had imagined. Not that he'd spent time thinking about it.

_Yeah, right, _the irksome voice contributed helpfully. (Okay, maybe he had; but only a couple of times.)

Niceties that usually accompanied sharing that first kiss with someone were dispensed with. Nothing about it was gentle or experimental or tentative; it was all teeth and tongue, and _oh so _gratifyingly sultry. The kiss felt as though they were exchanging electrical charges through their lips, and both were reminded of a time when they'd made first contact via that memorable handshake.

Hadrian's scar wouldn't stop tingling pleasurably, and he wondered if a word to describe something more than perfect existed; because even that seemed inadequate.

Tom's arm gripped him tighter and pulled him closer to deepen the kiss, the hand on his neck and cheek tilting Hadrian's head back more than he'd thought possible, tongue lashing out and exploring every crevice of his mouth. Hadrian disentangled his fingers from Tom's hair and draped his arms around his back, practically burying himself trying to get closer to the other boy, wondering why there seemed to be so much _space_.

Oh, yes, they were wearing these cumbersome, heavy cloaks that prevented them from feeling each other's flesh.

During the entire kiss, more than their groans, gasps, and other sounds of approval, his magic surpassed them, unfolding and splaying out across the town, purring agreeably all the while. Or was that Tom's? He couldn't quite tell any more, which made him realize their magic was still entwined, but the experience was only made better for it.

He briefly thought back to his dream, how a future-Tom and he had done the same thing and gotten such pleasure from it. The illusion from the dream was nothing compared to the real thing.

The voice spoke silkily, weaving together an attractive image for him, _You have yet to master this. When you do, just imagine the amount of pleasure you could receive from only a small taste of each other's magic._

And imagine, he did.

_Oh, my—_"God," Hadrian groaned into the kiss before he could stop himself, mind hazy as the picture of what that might be like played over and over in his head.

"I'm flattered," Tom murmured against his lips, "but I'm more partial towards 'Lord.'"

Hadrian rolled his eyes. He said nothing, though, as he slowly retreated from his position so tightly ensconced in Tom's hold, the lingering taste of the Slytherin heir still on his tongue. It was sharp, acidic, intricate, like several different flavors of citrus fused together—and Tom's personality. There was a hint of something softer and sweeter that he couldn't quite put his finger on; a little like honey or cinnamon, except not. The most appealing of all the tastes, however, was that of Tom himself.

Their kiss seemed to have simultaneously lasted for the shortest and longest moment. But when they did part and tune into the world outside of them, the full weight of what they'd so impulsively done caught up to their magic-addled minds. It suddenly occurred to them that they were in the middle of Hogsmeade, in the immediate aftermath of an attack on the town, and that not only were most of their schoolmates and some of their professors there, but so were the inhabitants of said town, Aurors, and—_good gracious_, were those reporters?

_Fucking perfect, _Tom thought, more mortified than he could ever remember being and furiously trying not to let it show on his face. _Bloody convenient for them to show up NOW._

Hadrian was faring no better. Though the idea of kissing Tom had crossed his mind—not to mention, doing _other _things with him—this was not the way he would have liked it to happen. All too familiar with having unwelcome people watching him and sticking their nose in his business, he did not want to ever repeat the experience.

It seemed, however, that there was no helping it. Even as he tried to distract himself from what had just happened by looking around the village, he was all too aware of the oblique glances thrown he and Tom's way. Outwardly taking it in stride, he continued to survey the damage done to Hogsmeade.

The post office was almost completely obliterated, though there hadn't been much there to begin with. Some shops around Honeydukes looked a bit more rundown than the others, but they were easily fixable. The body count, while unfortunate, he had to admit could have been a lot worse. There were about twenty dead people that he could see, and most of them were residents who'd fought in the attack.

Twenty people wasn't overly bad, he told himself; there had been more killed in the Paris attack, and that had been better contained. He tried not to dwell on the relatively small negatives and instead on the positives of the fight. Truth be told, Voldemort's followers could have done _a lot _worse. Could what they were saying about Grindelwald getting weaker be true, then?

Hadrian realized that had to be wrong when he finally made a circuit of the whole area. He couldn't spot a single wizard with the dark purple robes worn by Grindelwald's forces. Not the ones that he'd restrained or the ones that had been incapacitated or the ones whose wands he'd broken. Since the Aurors had no one to arrest, they went around questioning people and gathering up the dead and tending to the wounded.

Clearly, the lack of the maximum damage that could have been done wasn't an accident on Grindelwald's part. In fact, if he'd wanted that, Hadrian thought the Dark Lord would have shown up for the attack himself. This was, after all, the first time he'd brought the war to Britain, despite the fact that everyone believed he was too afraid of Dumbledore to do so. He didn't know much about the man, but Grindelwald probably would not have missed a chance to prove them wrong if a devastating battle had been his plan. So what exactly had been his goal in this seemingly useless assault?

"Hadrian!" Alphard's voice called to his right, and he turned to see his cousin dodging people to get to him. When the visibly elated boy reached him, Hadrian was engulfed in a bone-crushing hug. "Thank Merlin you're all right!"

Barely able to breathe from the almost painful squeeze, Hadrian patted his arm. "Of course I am," he rasped, "I told you I know what I'm doing, didn't I?"

Alphard released him abruptly, holding him at arm's length to scrutinize him. "Are you hurt anywhere?" he asked.

"No, I'm fine," Hadrian replied. Then he asked, "Alphard, where did the wizards go?"

"The Dark Lord's?" At his nod, Alphard said, "They all vanished as soon as the Aurors arrived." He frowned, adding angrily, "Bloody perfect timing they have, by the way. The Ministry proves to be as incompetent as ever."

Hadrian quirked a small smile, unable to disagree with that. "Never mind them, how are the other students? Did they get through safely?" he asked.

Alphard nodded, his frown transforming into a grin. "Yeah, they made it through. Some of them were a bit worse for wear, but most were fairly okay. Thanks to your brilliant idea, of course." He paused, then smirked and teased, "A black mamba, Hadrian? I would have never imagined such a Patronus for you."

_Don't remind me_, Hadrian thought sourly, now remembering that he had to deal with that regrettable turnout on top of everything else. He avoided Alphard's probe by saying, "The credit is not mine, Alphard. Without you, a lot more of them could have been hurt."

He was surprised to get a light blush out of his cousin for the praise. Alphard was not the type to be easily embarrassed or flattered. What he said was completely true, though. Had he not had the other to rely on, the plan would have fallen to pieces. What his instincts had been telling him before he'd decided to show Alphard the passageway turned out to be true, and he was now very glad he'd decided to follow them.

_Speaking of instincts._ Hadrian turned to glance at Tom now that he'd calmed down from his horrified state. Tom was no longer beside him, he found. Instead, he was currently engaged in a conversation with Abraxas, Lestrange, Rosier, and Dolohov a few feet away. Hadrian was glad to see his cousin was unharmed, though he'd expected no less. What was more surprising was that any of the four boys had joined in defending the town.

_Oh, who am I kidding? It's obvious they only did that for their 'Lord.' _Hadrian thought in disgust, unable to believe they were already so devoted to the Slytherin heir that they set aside their values and opposed a Dark Lord whose plight they approved of just for a scrap of praise from a boy their age. _So pathetic._

_And for whom do you think he joined the fight in the first place? _The voice was softer than he was used to and he had a hard time distinguishing it from his own conscience.

Either way, he didn't care one whit. It was no secret that Tom Riddle had a calculated reason for every bit of assistance he gave. It could never simply be for a selfless purpose, and this time was no different—no matter what the voice was insinuating.

Looking away from the sickening sight of Lestrange practically draped over Tom, Hadrian asked Alphard, "Did you get Cassius out?"

Alphard appeared momentarily contrite. "I kind of forgot about him," he muttered, head bent down to avoid Hadrian's gaze. "Besides, he was on the other side of town so it wasn't exactly safe."

Worried, Hadrian thought about what could have happened to the Ravenclaw during this whole time. He almost panicked when he thought of the possibility of a stray spell hitting his defenseless, prone body. "That's okay; it's not your fault," he assured Alphard before turning in the other direction.

He was already running as he answered Alphard's question about where he was headed. "You go on ahead," he called, "I'm going to make sure he's all right. I'll meet you back at the school."

Tom was brought out of his desire to distance himself from Hadrian at the moment when he heard mention of Zabini's name. His attention had been half on the group before him and half on Hadrian and Alphard, who was proving it very difficult for Tom not to curse him.

_Ah, careful, _the voice chided amusedly, _your jealousy is showing. Again_.

Tom wondered what was going on with it. The bothersome thing was being rather active today. He didn't deign to respond to it, instead finally considering the thoughts that had crossed his mind during the fight and that he'd lain aside for later. Namely, why the Dark Lord's follower's had been easier to fend off than they should have been.

The best theory he could come up with was that Grindelwald had intended for it to be his announcement, a flashy display that alerted the people of Britain of his arrival to their country. It had been a carefully planned endeavor as evidenced by the fact that all the wizards had managed to get out as soon as the Aurors had broken through their efforts to keep them out.

And perhaps Grindelwald had done this to taunt the one wizard everyone thought could successfully oppose him by making it clear that an attack could happen right under Dumbledore's nose and the _great _wizard hadn't been able to do anything about it. It was what Tom would have done, and he could admire that method as an aspiring Dark Lord himself. Well, only if Grindelwald followed this up with a more serious and devastating attack.

The thought brought him up short, suddenly making him realize that while his decision to get involved in the fight had been less than altruistic, the same couldn't be said of Hadrian. The boy was certainly a Slytherin but his actions today had proven beyond a doubt that not all aspects of that were the same for him as they were for his other Housemates. The very basic sense of self-preservation that was ingrained in almost all Slytherins appeared to be absent on Hadrian's part, if Tom could take the way the pureblood had jumped into the attack without any regard for himself as a sign.

They'd shared an unbelievable kiss and, though they hadn't yet figured out where to go from there, Tom was sure he wanted to do that again and again and _again_. But he couldn't be sure how to handle their now evidently different views. He believed some violence was necessary and inevitable during a war such as this, and he couldn't deny that if he were in the Dark Lord's place, he would have done the same.

Had Hadrian not insinuated himself into it, Tom would have walked away from the attack without feeling an ounce of pity for or responsibility toward the denizens of Hogsmeade. This was not so for Hadrian, and he sensed that this difference in opinion would cause trouble for them in the future.

Perhaps his first order of business after discerning exactly what kind of relationship they were going to have wasn't to get Hadrian to join his circle, but to convince him of the grandness of his vision for the wizarding world.

_Good luck with that, _was the voice's dry, sarcastic input.

Tom was confident he could accomplish this, just as he had succeeded in persuading and enticing dozens of other people before Hadrian. And he'd not even had to lay a single finger on _them_. Judging from Hadrian's reaction to their kiss, he thought it was a tactic that would probably work on the Shadow Lord.

The voice made its persistent, unwelcome presence known again with a scoff. _You cannot continue to attempt to disguise your real feelings with such a feeble agenda. You want him for reasons that are hard to comprehend and rationalize, so why don't you save yourself the trouble and admit it already?_

He couldn't believe he was about to argue with an overly chatty voice in his head, but that didn't stop him from saying, _I have never denied my desire for him._

_Yes, but that isn't the same thing as denying exactly _why _you want him_, the voice responded in a tone that would normally be used on children who had a hard time grasping something that had been explained to them countless times before. _And we both know it's not only so you can utilize his power, or because there is no one else who has proven to be your equal in anything before._

_Don't forget magically compatible_, Tom added mockingly, not really understanding what point it was trying to get at. Naturally, he wanted Hadrian for those reasons. Without that, there wouldn't have been such an attraction between them in the first place.

_Those are contributing factors, not the whole of it. They would not have held up in the long shot._

Regretting that he'd ever broken his rule of silence, Tom promptly went back to ignoring the damn thing. Figuring Hadrian had already returned to the school since he hadn't yet shown up, Tom trekked back up the debris-covered street towards Hogwarts with the four boys foremost in his inner circle.

**000**

Following a much-needed shower, a change of clothes, and getting food into his rather empty stomach, Hadrian visited the hospital wing to check on those injured in the attack. He hadn't had a chance to after dropping Cassius off, though he'd wanted to be there for the Ravenclaw's diagnosis.

The first thing he noticed when he entered the infirmary was utter chaos. There were too many patients and only one mediwitch for all of them. Hadrian figured that if so many of them didn't have such minor injuries, there would be more sent to St. Mungo's and less crowding up the hospital wing. The matron looked completely swamped, and she was handling it with a grace not many could pull off.

All the noise in the wing washed out the sound of the severe downpour that he could see going on outside through the windows. He was surprised she hadn't yet thrown out the visitors taking up needed space and facilitating in the overall disorder. Madam Pomfrey would have instantly turned them out and demanded they give the patients a chance to rest.

Hadrian walked down the aisle of full beds to the end one Cassius was resting in. The Zabini heir was currently sleeping, however, and the only way he could tell how he was doing was by examining the coil of thick bandages encasing his head. A cracked skull, then, he recognized with relief. Cassius would be back to normal soon enough with a little rest.

He turned to go with the decision to check back later, and might not have sighted Noah in a bed of his own if the Hufflepuff's quiet voice hadn't reached him.

He strolled down the short distance between the two beds and came to a stop at Noah's. "Noah, how are you doing?" he asked. "Has your wound been taken care of?"

Noah smiled and nodded, saying softly, "Yes. Madam Bloodgood had no trouble mending it, especially as Tom healed some of it to begin with."

Mention of what Tom had done brought the questions of what was between the two back. Then he had the ridiculous thought of something less than innocent going on, which he knew to be absurd but couldn't help wondering anyway.

Shit, the kiss was seriously complicating everything. He wouldn't have thought of such an irrational thing otherwise. Noah was obviously only interested in Alphard.

"That's good to hear. I'm glad you're all right," said Hadrian, forcefully driving those thoughts out. "When will you be discharged?"

"I've been told I will be good to leave by this evening," Noah replied, lightly treading fingers across his abdomen and adding, "though I feel fine now."

"You deserve to relax after what you did, Noah," Hadrian told him truthfully, smiling fondly at the blush that overtook the sixth year's lovely features. "You were very brave; and I am not just referring to taking that curse for Alphard."

Noah averted his gaze, still flushing as he played with his thin fingers and said in an oddly clogged voice, "Thank you."

Hadrian felt briefly sad for him, wondering if the boy hadn't ever received well-deserved praise for something he'd done or helped with. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like Mr. and Mrs. Vaisey when he met them.

"Athena, please!" A frustrated voice huffed from behind him, an unmistakably velvety one despite its current hoarseness that he recognized as belonging to Jezebel. And confirmed by turning around and spotting the girl in a bed by the doors. He'd not seen her when he'd passed her cot, so focused had he been on inspecting Cassius's condition. "Cease your atrocious fussing at once. It is neither wanted nor appreciated," she added.

'Athena' had to be the tall dusky girl standing at her bedside, wearing Hufflepuff robes, the yellow and black of it looking truly flattering against her dark skin. Hadrian hazily remembered the seventh year from some of his classes, though he'd never known her name. She had long dark black hair—possibly even darker than his—that reached the small of her back, and shown like a crow's feathers in the light. Her eyes were ocean blue one moment and seafoam green the next.

Right now, they were a dark teal, as she wrung her hands distressingly and fretfully under the firm, smoky violet of the Slytherin before her. "Oh, Jezebel, I feel just awful. Please, let me make it up to you."

Jezebel swept a clearly scornful look over the anxious girl. "Straighten up, you fool," she whispered fiercely. She made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat when the girl seemed to hunch in on herself even more. "You are truly a blight on the Elsegood name," she said exasperatingly. Then she gestured dismissively, tearing her disdainful gaze from the Hufflepuff to bite out, "Do not sully me with your continued presence; fetch me a change of clothes. _Proper _ones, mind."

The Hufflepuff nodded vigorously. "I'll get that right away," she said eagerly. Her long legs carried her swiftly out of the infirmary.

At the girl's departure, Hadrian couldn't help thinking Jezebel had terrible bedside manner. They spoke to one another as though they knew each other well, and there wasn't much Slytherin-Hufflepuff interaction that didn't stem from family relations. It didn't seem like Jezebel to treat the other students so horribly to their face; she was far too diplomatic for that. Which meant that the girl had to be family, and _wow_, did Jezebel really treat her family that way? Unless she was acting this way because she was sour about her injury.

Wanting to know what had led to Jezebel having her own bed in the first place, Hadrian told Noah he wished to check on his Housemate and sidled up to the now calm girl. That look made his sour theory a lot less plausible.

"Hadrian, love," she purred the moment her heavy eyes alighted on him, "I am ever so relieved to see you. This place is dreadfully dull."

Hadrian carefully hid his amusement at the abrupt shift from a snapping harpy to her usual deceptive, syrupy sweetness. "Hello, Jezebel," he greeted. "What happened to you? Are you all right?"

"Ah, yes; _now _I am," said Jezebel, her hand moving to lift the covers aside to show him her right leg, which had a long, faint scar from below her knee all the way to just above her ankle. "Severe compound fractured tibia," she explained at his questioning glance, sounding as though she were repeating something back. "The mediwitch has healed it, but she says I'm to suffer with this hideous blemish upon my skin for possibly the rest of my life."

Hadrian thought that a small price to pay for a healthy leg, especially when the mark itself was hardly visible, but he didn't dare say so to the stunning girl who no doubt resented having anything mar that beauty. "My condolences," he said instead.

Jezebel's lips curved into a chilling smile. "Rest assured, I shall not be taking _her _word for it. Until such time as I consult with an _actual _healer, I won't simply allow this to be in its present condition."

"How did it happen?" Hadrian asked, taking the seat indicated to him with a grateful nod. He hadn't had a chance to simply relax since the attack; even his shower and supper had been hurried.

Jezebel pulled the covers back up over herself and looked as though she were settling in for a long story. "I was perfectly comfortable just watching the fight from my place in Honeydukes," she began airily. Her thin brows furrowed in annoyance as she continued, "But, as always, my cousin traipsed all over that by trying to play a hero."

"Is that the Hufflepuff that was just here?" he clarified.

"To my eternal displeasure, yes," replied Jezebel, grimacing. Then, because her sense of etiquette probably demanded it, she filled in, "My mother's niece, Athena Elsegood."

"There's not much of a family resemblance," Hadrian observed, though the good looks seen in most of the people associated with the Greengrasses was certainly there.

Jezebel nodded in agreement. "She gets everything except her eyes from her mother. She is not, however, half the woman her mother is. I suppose _Hufflepuff _is just the place for her," she scoffed, letting Hadrian see her showing that very common Slytherin disdain for all things Hufflepuff for the first time. He could still remember eleven-year-old Draco Malfoy's vehement declaration that he would leave Hogwarts altogether if he were to be Sorted into Hufflepuff.

A prickle of familiarity tickled at the back of his mind, the kind he got when he was about to recall a memory that belonged to the old Hadrian and he'd not encountered or had been consciously thinking about it but was now making its presence known. He was asking the question before the thought had fully formed in his head, "Any relation to Lucine Moonbloom?"

"Yes," Jezebel said, glancing at him as though wondering why he'd asked such an irrelevant question. She wasn't the only one. "Lucine Moonbloom is the aunt of Athena's half-sister, though I believe she is a Ketteridge now. Why do you ask?"

Hadrian gave a fluid shrug, unsure himself. "No reason, really; just a thought that struck me," he said, and received an unconvinced stare in return. He diverted her by elaborating, "Lucine is a good friend of my mother's and also, as you've pointed out, the wife of mother's second cousin Soren Ketteridge. I don't believe she's taken his name, however, so I'm not quite used to addressing her any differently."

Jezebel appeared a bit scandalized. "You don't say? Why is that?" she asked.

Hadrian could just tell what was running through her mind. It wasn't extremely uncommon for witches—or certain wizards—to keep their family name after marriage. But it was very rare for pureblood witches who came from less renowned families to keep their name after marrying into an older family. In fact, it was rather frowned upon. The Moonblooms were a bit quaint next to the Ketteridges, and Jezebel was no doubt marveling that Lucine had opted for a name that gave her a relatively low standing among the pureblood circles.

He also knew that Lucine was a proud woman who would never stand for gaining prominence because of something that wasn't of her own doing. It was one of the reasons she was his mother's closest friend. The two had been friends since their Beauxbatons days, when they'd found that they were both going to the French school despite coming from British backgrounds because of a need to carve a path for themselves separate from their families—his mother's overshadowing her in its stature and Lucine's holding her back.

It wasn't public knowledge and he wasn't about to make it so. Mindful of Jezebel's curious eyes and query, Hadrian said, "We've gone off topic, it seems. I would like to hear the rest of your story, if you do not mind."

The violet gaze locked on him was shrewd, but Jezebel allowed him to change the subject and got back to recounting what had happened as if she hadn't strayed from it. "Athena is easily excitable so I considered it a good idea to keep an eye on her. After all, if anything should happen to her, my uncle would be quite devastated; despite her utter uselessness, she is still his only child." Jezebel rolled her eyes to show what she thought of _that_. "But, of course, she managed to upset even my good intentions."

She paused and looked at Hadrian expectantly, as though waiting for him to demonstrate proper interest in her storytelling. He played along, "How?"

Satisfied, she proceeded, "Some pesky Hufflepuff fourth-year crashed against the display window from the outside, and was subsequently treated to a rather painful-looking Boiling Curse. Oh, yes—he's over there." Jezebel waved over at something behind him, her nose wrinkling at the sight.

Hadrian twisted in his seat to look at a bed on the other side of the wing, in which slept one of the Hufflepuff Chasers, Colm Radford. His entire face was dotted with pustules, and, from the little he could see peeking out of his gown, so was his neck; maybe even below. The mediwitch probably hadn't gotten to him yet since, though gruesome, his was one of the milder injuries.

When he turned back, Jezebel's expression was still one of great distaste. "It was a lot worse, if you can believe it. Lucky for him, Athena has a bit of skill in healing," she said, looking bitter at the prospect of conceding her 'useless' cousin was good at anything. "She healed him after she foolishly ran out to come to his rescue. In the end, I had to go out and help, too, when a few more wizards joined the first. By then, she'd already brought attention to those of us in Honeydukes and they flushed us out."

Hadrian supposed that, in the long run, no matter how much Jezebel disparaged her cousin's rather brave actions, it had been a necessary step in giving Alphard and Noah a chance to spirit away the other students in the passageway. Once Grindelwald's men had emptied the sweetshop of all its occupants, they'd not given it any more attention, which meant that when Honeydukes seemed to disappear, they didn't notice.

"What happened next?" Hadrian picked up on her hesitation and guessed she was at the point where her leg had been split open.

"Then we fought and I tried to keep Athena alive long enough to deliver my well thought out invective. Alas, it came to be I was the one in danger of dying at that moment," she said in a tone that was probably meant to be more flippant than she actually felt. "I didn't quite hear the spell when it hit me, but now I'm of the belief that it was a combination of a Cutting and Reductor Curse, or something like it."

He would have doubted the look of distress on Jezebel's face had he not witnessed it. The expression was gone as quickly as it had come so it was a good thing he was sure of having seen it or he would have doubted even himself. This was a girl who'd possibly never had a wand raised at her in malice, and was obviously shaken by the experience of having her leg cut open.

Jezebel went on more soberly, though outwardly unbothered, "The pain was excruciating, and I was sure I was going to die then. I might have even blacked out for a second."

A soft smile crossed her already beautiful features, making it appear lovelier still. It wasn't one Hadrian had ever seen or would have associated with her, but it was good on her, nonetheless.

The cause of that smile was revealed when she continued, "But then I was saved." Jezebel must have realized how wistful she sounded for her features immediately rearranged to show her customarily haughty expression. "The wizard standing over me was blasted away by Anastius _Zabini_, of all people. I hadn't known he had it in him, but he fought fairly well. I cannot fathom why his family is so neutral, though I've no place to speak." Her eyes lit on something to Hadrian's left. "Ah! Speak of the devil."

Hadrian glanced to see Anastius coming through the infirmary's doors, carrying several thick books in his arms. The combined weight appeared heavy and Hadrian reckoned the only reason the sixth year hadn't levitated them was to impress Jezebel. She _was _dutifully impressed, though not because of his ability to lift heavy books.

"Oh, Anastius, you're a mind reader," the seventh-year girl crowed, "I had intended on sending someone to fetch me something to read, but you've saved me the trouble." She turned to Hadrian and cooed, "Isn't he the sweetest?"

Hadrian barely kept from laughing at the fierce blush coloring Anastius's pale face. "_So _sweet," he agreed in a taunting tone Anastius picked up on, and earned himself a quick glare as thanks.

Jezebel held out her hand for the younger boy as soon as he placed the books on the side table. "Come," she instructed. Once Anastius immediately grasped her smaller hand in his, she added, "You've been so helpful as of late, I do hope you will not object to seeing me to the privy."

If Anastius had been blushing before, it was nothing compared to the color of his face now. "O-of course."

Jezebel sensed his obvious discomfiture. Slipping out of the bed and standing on her feet, she assured, "Don't fret, you shall not be accompanying me inside."

Hadrian didn't know whether his captain was more relieved or disappointed about this. Personally, he thought Jezebel's tone was reminiscent of the patronizing, fond, patient one adults used on adorable children, and felt momentarily sorry for him. But any attention he got from her seemed to be good enough for Anastius. He had the soppiest grin on his face the entire time he led her over to the bathroom, no matter what the girl of his affections said.

Calling a parting to both Jezebel and Noah, Hadrian stood to finally escape the uncomfortable feeling hospitals always gave him. He was immensely glad that, for once, he wasn't among the ones occupying a cot. He bumped into Alphard at the doors, though, and was further delayed his exit.

"Hadrian!—Hi, I, uh, was looking for you," his cousin said, shifting guiltily and attempting to hide something behind his back.

Flowers, Hadrian learned when he darted forward to tug the hand holding the small bouquet into view. "This can't be for me," he observed, giving the flustered boy a sly smile. He laughed at his embarrassment at being caught out. "No need to be shy about it if you want to give these to Noah. It's very nice that you might be starting to like him, too."

Alphard shook his head vehemently. "I'm not—"

Hadrian disrupted what he might have said by pushing him further into the room. "Go on, don't be afraid. This is only a natural progression in the dating process."

"There's no such progression," Alphard spluttered insistently. "I just thought it would make him feel better."

"And that's very kind of you," Hadrian encouraged. "I'm sure he'll think so, too."

Yielding, Alphard stopped struggling and, following an accusatory glower sent Hadrian's way, proceeded forward. The recipient of the flowers visibly brightened when Alphard presented them to him, blushing all the while.

Hadrian smirked at the apparent way Alphard was striving to hide that he was reciprocating Noah's feelings. He was in denial, like Jezebel was over caring for her cousin despite her pretense of dislike, and like he'd initially been over his attraction for Tom. And, admittedly, like he was now over how much more the kiss had affected him than expected, and how that scared him just as much as it excited him.

Both Tom and he were inexperienced in matters such as these, and he knew they couldn't avoid one another for long before they had to clear the air and talk about what had happened. The prospect made him at once anxious and eager, and Hadrian left the infirmary with a grim expectation of their reunion, resigned to the fact that he actually _liked _Voldemort's counterpart for reasons beyond physical attraction.

_Merlin help me, I'm absolutely fucked._

**000**

In an endeavor to settle his raging mind and let his thoughts organize in the back of his head for later analysis, Tom retreated to his room early that night, away from all the chatter and activity in the castle.

The school was still abuzz about the attack, as though it hadn't happened that afternoon, and there were still some Ministry officials hanging about, doing whatever it is they did after showing up as backup to a fight that was already over. Attempt to take credit, most likely, he thought derisively.

And just like that, his thoughts were firmly back on what he'd been trying to let collect subconsciously for viewing in a more orderly fashion later. Thinking about any part of that hotchpotch of a battle got him stuck on Hadrian's actions, no matter his current desire to put it off. He'd already established that he and his partner weren't in perfect accord in their views on the war, in spite of the opposite being true when it came to the battlefield.

Fleetingly distracted, the beginnings of arousal stirred in Tom at the memory of their adrenaline-driven harmony, but he beat it down before it could develop further than a warm spike and succeed in permanently sidetracking him. He'd had his brain's ability to function weakened because of Hadrian once today; if he allowed that to happen again, he'd never get anything done.

Steering his jumbled thoughts back on course, Tom reflected on the inconsistencies that had given him pause during the fight, especially some of the discrepancies with Hadrian's behavior. The puzzle currently leading in his mind was the pureblood's fighting style. If he hadn't known better, Tom would have suspected some type of Auror training at hand.

He leaned against his headboard and closed his eyes, stretching his memory back to the fight, reviewing everything he'd seen and done from a new, more objective perspective. Everything played out as if it were occurring right then, and he could distinctly recall all that Hadrian had done.

The way the Shadow Lord had dispatched the attackers and that which he'd written off as getting "carried away" made Tom particularly curious and suspicious. No one who got 'carried away' had the foresight to not only incapacitate the enemy but also tie them up and break their wand. Hadrian's response had seemed automatic, in fact, like he'd done this very thing several times before.

Which was exactly what stumped and mystified Tom the most. He simply couldn't work out how that would be possible in any kind of scenario that didn't involve the current war. Since Hadrian had made it rather evident he wasn't too involved in this war (and he sincerely doubted even a covert connection), it was pretty much a given that all those circumstances were nonexistent.

Then what was it?

Leaving that mystery to rest for now, Tom moved on to the next one: the Patronus. It wasn't so much that Hadrian could cast a Patronus—though indeed a rare skill—but more that he'd looked surprised about the outcome of his own charm. Had he not expected a black mamba? True, it didn't really fit Hadrian's personality, but he'd cast the spell with a confidence that belied he'd done it before, so, surely, he should have known what his Patronus would be and not be alarmed by it.

Unless Hadrian's Patronus had changed. While he'd never tried the charm himself, Tom had read much about it, and he'd heard of such a thing happening. A Patronus usually changed to reflect the caster's own change in mood or emotion. If this were true about Hadrian, then the boy himself wasn't aware of his emotional transformation—whatever it was. By now, however, he ought to know and was probably mulling this over even more than Tom was.

Never one for modesty, Tom was relatively convinced that it had to do with him. He recalled the little funk Hadrian had been in at the beginning of the month, and his own suspicion that the Slytherin had been confused about their apparent attraction for each other. Since they'd practically gone on what most would probably call a 'date' prior to Hadrian casting the Patronus, Tom could safely deduce that whatever issues had been plaguing the other boy had been resolved, and that he'd come to a decision about what was between them.

Yes, he could think of no other reason for Hadrian's changed Patronus, if that indeed was what had happened.

Tom sat up and crossed his legs on the bed, allowing himself a respite from conjecturing about the events of the attack. With a wave of his hand, he summoned the Scrying Compass from the open bag on the armchair by his bookshelf. The compass smacked into his outstretched hand and he turned it over in both hands, once again undertaking the challenge of making sense of what had caused the magic to shift during the last ritual.

Though the magic had felt foreign the first time he'd tried this, he now found that there was something familiar about it. He brushed his fingers over the gems, where he could sense the most magic coming from the compass. Concentrating, he permitted the particular feel of it to evoke the fleeting memory on its own.

Every time he was upon the answer, it escaped him, like the rare occasions where he couldn't say something that was on the tip of his tongue. No amount of widening his area of perception helped with deciphering the unusual magic that had developed from adding he and Hadrian's magic to the compass.

Suddenly, it hit him. That was it! They'd put their magic into the compass. Hadn't his dark red combined with Hadrian's emerald and the orange of the runes to turn amethyst during the ritual? He'd been able to recognize the magic of the runes from the final combination, but had gotten stumped beyond that.

Only a few hours ago, their magic had once again entwined and manifested into something much stronger and with an entirely different signature, which wasn't distinguishable as his or Hadrian's. Their Scrying Compass had carried the result of their magic meeting and coalescing to form a new whole, and they'd managed to do the same thing with some degree of awareness during the attack.

_Fascinating, isn't it? _The voice practically radiated smugness.

Tom couldn't disagree. This was indeed a fascinating turn of events. He'd never heard of such a thing happening. The few times in history where people with compatible magic actually connected in such an intimate manner, they were still able to separate their signature from the other. Something like this shouldn't have even been possible, especially in a way that allowed them to have their individual magic returned to them once they disconnected.

_It's not as rare as you might think, _said the voice cryptically.

Intrigued though he was about what it was alluding to, Tom knew it wouldn't elaborate even if he asked, so he saved himself the indignity. Besides, the challenge of unearthing this mystery for himself was a much more attractive prospect.

He pondered the merits of letting Hadrian in on his findings. Granted, this had as much to do with him as it did Tom, but he had yet to figure out all the clues to the puzzle. He wished to do so before revealing everything to Hadrian. Plus, it wouldn't hurt to know something the other didn't.

_You may as well tell him now, or you shall be keeping him waiting for some time yet._

Tom narrowed his eyes at the unspoken challenge. The voice believed he couldn't work out the problem, did it? Well, he would prove it wrong. There was not a riddle in the world too hard for him to solve.

Something that could only be called a chortle clanged in his head. _I was not intimating that you couldn't figure it out. The solution will just be a long time coming._

He thoroughly disagreed. _You're very chatty today. Kindly shut up._

Another short laugh. _And whose fault do you think that is?_

Was that another clue? Tom smirked inwardly. At this rate, he was sure to work out why joining his magic with Hadrian's garnered such an unpredictable reaction. The voice was only making it easier for him if it continued to make allusions like that.

By the next morning, however, even after a night of contemplating it, Tom was no closer to the answer. The voice hadn't been forthcoming with any more clues. Any other time, Tom would have been glad for its absence, but this dampened his chances of receiving hints from its snarky remarks.

The halls of the castle were eerily quiet next to yesterday's commotion. Tom welcomed the silence of the mornings where he was almost always the first student to breakfast, and he felt it especially so this morning. The only thing that would have made it better was the latest addition to this ritual.

Except, Hadrian wasn't there when he got to the Entrance Hall. Slightly disconcerted by the possibility that Hadrian might be avoiding him again, Tom headed to the Great Hall without much hope for the boy already being there. Which, he found, turned out to be the case.

The only sight he was met with was the familiar line of professors already in their seats. Not so familiar, he amended, when he was unable to spot Dumbledore in his usual seat beside the headmaster.

"Good morning, Mr. Riddle!" Dippet's over-excited voice turned Tom's curious gaze away from Dumbledore's unoccupied chair.

"Good morning, headmaster," he greeted, nodding at the widely smiling older wizard as he walked to his seat at the Slytherin table. "Professors," he added.

"Mr. Riddle, I wonder if you cannot stay behind after you have finished with your meal," Dippet continued. "I wish to discuss something with you."

"Yes, of course, headmaster."

"Excellent!" Dippet beamed. "Also, please advise the two elder Mr. Blacks to join you once they have arrived."

"Yes, sir," Tom agreed, keeping his confusion hidden. What could the headmaster want with him that involved both Hadrian and Alphard?

Of course, he thought, the attack on Hogsmeade. All three of them had been very much in the thick of it. Hadrian and he had defended the students and Alphard had gotten them to safety. Dippet probably wanted to give them a long speech about bravery and honor and other such nonsense. Heck, he probably wanted to give them an award, too.

Hadrian and Alphard didn't show up for some time yet, however. Most of the other students arrived before either one did. It wasn't like Hadrian to be so late to breakfast, and Tom revised his earlier thought that the pureblood might deliberately be avoiding him because of their as yet unresolved situation.

Those thoughts were temporarily put aside when Alphard finally made his entrance with Noah at his side. The smaller boy looked happier than Tom could ever remember seeing him since his brother had left school. He couldn't stand the idea that Alphard, of all people, was the cause of any part of that happiness, especially when Noah looked as though he sincerely liked him and Tom knew Alphard in no way reciprocated his feelings.

He was aware of his narrowed eyes burning a hole in the back of Alphard's head as the boy escorted the sixth year to the Hufflepuff table. Alphard squirmed in an entirely satisfactory manner under the gaze, although he was making an almost admirable attempt at pretending he didn't notice.

Tom didn't bother threatening the Black, but let his gaze speak for him as Alphard slid into his usual seat, even more nervous now that he was closer to him. His stare was one of promise, a promise that he would cause unimaginable pain to the other Slytherin should he hurt Noah. And he was certain he would. Alphard was much too interested in his cousin to give anyone else consideration. It wasn't a matter of _if_ but _when _this would happen_._

Though he would have liked to stop it before Alphard succeeded in this, he knew it would be a fruitless endeavor. Noah had to get over Alphard of his own volition; and the best way for that to happen was for the older boy to permanently sully himself in Noah's eyes.

Tom glanced away when the flapping of hundreds of wings reached his ears. He looked up along with every other student at the owls bringing mail that morning. There were more than usual, and Tom suspected that news of the attack had gotten to every parent by now.

Abraxas's eagle owl smoothly landed before the blond boy and stuck out its leg, his subscription of the _Daily Prophet _grasped in its talons. Another letter with the Malfoy seal was tied to the other leg. Tom watched as Abraxas took the paper first, then untied the envelope. He stashed the letter in his robe, though, and splayed out the _Prophet _before him so Tom could look on.

If Tom had expected a typical report on the attack, he was sorely mistaken.

_**HEROES OF HOGSMEADE!**_

**COURAGEOUS STUDENTS DEFEND AGAINST GRINDELWALD'S ATTACK**

He almost reared back at the announcement, becoming increasingly appalled the longer he stared at the picture that accompanied the news. Right there on the cover was a large picture of Hadrian and he fighting back-to-back, firing spells at an astonishing rate. In the background, Alphard's distorted body could be seen as he stuck his head and arms out of an invisible barrier and yanked an unsuspecting Ravenclaw girl back into it.

The photograph played out the whole scene, and then repeated over and over again.

Tom could feel all the eyes on him even more than when the students had poured into the hall. Admiring gazes, he could tolerate, but a title like "hero" going along with it was not something he was comfortable with, or pleased about. He hadn't done it to be proclaimed as a hero!

Stupid sensationalist rag. And where the hell was Hadrian, anyway?

As if summoned, the doors to the Great Hall opened to admit Hadrian, who, Tom saw with even more displeasure overcoming him than before, was flanked by Cassius-bloody-Zabini. The chatter that had picked up at the arrival of the paper seemed to cease instantaneously at the sight of the other "hero of Hogsmeade."

Both boys froze at the stares directed their way. Zabini was obviously the more discomfited of the two, but Hadrian, too, appeared a little unnerved. They fell back on their pureblood mask soon after, however, and began to make their way to their respective tables, disregarding the gawking and whispering students with notable equanimity.

Hadrian bid Zabini farewell where their tables met, and Tom regretted not having hit the Ravenclaw with something worse to keep him in the infirmary longer. He knew Hadrian considered the boy a friend, but the sight of him with Zabini caused something that had nothing to do with jealousy to constrict in his chest.

Something along the lines of…betrayal? With a slight frown, Tom considered the peculiar feeling. What, just because Hadrian had kissed him, did he think the boy owed him anything? He certainly didn't believe he owed Hadrian anything from a kiss alone. Well, at least until they decided on that.

_Then you're just going to let him slip through your fingers like that?_

Tom scoffed inwardly at the ridiculous question the voice posed. _Of course not. I'm going to make it very clear to him that he's mine, and mine alone. I _do not _share._

"_Heroes of Hogsmeade?_" Hadrian's soft snort brought Tom out of his musings to take notice of the green eyes full of amusement as they gazed at the _Prophet_.

Alphard grinned from beside him, pointing at the paper and smugly saying, "I'm sure they meant _hero_. I'm obviously the focus of this picture."

Tom rolled his eyes at the idiot. It came as no surprise to him that Alphard was enjoying the attention. He had always been slow to realize the consequences.

Hadrian lightly chuckled at the comment. "Yes, that is why you disappear from view every few seconds. The 'Elusive Hero,'" he taunted.

He pursed his lips in an entirely too-enticing manner while his gaze traveled the length of the paper. His eyes widened slightly at something, and he pulled the paper closer to read it with more interest.

"What is it?" Alphard noticed the sudden concentration.

Hadrian glanced briefly at him, then put a finger to a spot and read out loud, "'But nowhere to be found in this attack that left the townspeople and students at the mercy of what seems to be hundreds of the Reiniger is the only man many believe Grindelwald fears, the great Albus Dumbledore himself. This reporter has a hard time believing these claims, as it is doubtful one would fear a supposedly venerated wizard who allows students to fight for him while he twiddles his thumbs and sits behind the protection of his castle.'"

The words garnered almost raucous laughter from anyone who'd heard it at their table, and even Tom could feel his lips twitching in amusement. He'd not gotten that far, so he looked back at Abraxas's copy to relish any more of the _Prophet_'s condemnation of Dumbledore.

If Dumbledore had already seen all the negative things the paper had to say on him, then it was no wonder he hadn't shown up for breakfast this morning. Tom hadn't ever known the old man to be a coward, but his political savvy could be counted on to get his public image back to what it was. He had to be doing major damage control in the wake of the attack.

Tom reflected that Grindelwald had probably counted on this as well, and he was now positive a much worse follow-up attack was sure to come, which would serve to further discredit Dumbledore.

The _Daily Prophet_, of course, didn't focus on the fact that this had been a relatively small strike. On the contrary, they were exaggerating the severity of it. 'Hundreds of the Reiniger?' There couldn't have been more than fifty-to-sixty of the Dark Lord's followers.

"What rubbish," Hadrian scoffed angrily, throwing the paper aside.

Tom watched the fury mirrored in his eyes and wondered if he was mad at the deputy headmaster getting slandered or at the way the entire incident had been so thoroughly sensationalized. On closer inspection, Tom admitted that it was probably because of Dumbledore. The man paid too much attention to Hadrian in Transfiguration, and the pureblood was possibly the only Slytherin who appeared to like him.

Hadrian pushed his plate away and made to stand. "Where are you going?" Alphard asked in alarm.

"The library," said Hadrian.

"You hardly ate anything," the nosey Black pointed out.

"I've lost my appetite," was the succinct response.

Before Alphard also stood and proposed to tag along—as he no doubt itched to do—Tom announced, "One moment, Hadrian; it is the headmaster's wish that you and I stay behind after breakfast. Alphard as well," he grudgingly added.

Now that he remembered the headmaster's request, it seemed more likely that Dippet would present them with some award, especially after the _Prophet_'s rather unwelcome proclamation.

Appearing mildly bemused, Hadrian sat back down and asked, "Did he say for what?"

Tom shook his head, hyperaware of the eyes greedily taking in the first interaction of the day between the two of them. "He did not."

Hadrian became contemplative, most likely forming his own theories as to why the headmaster wanted to see them. He, too, paid no mind to the whispering and tittering going around them as the students watched the pair. Apparently, a very public kiss shared between the Head Boy and the transfer student was more fodder for gossip than a violent attack on the neighboring town.

_Fickle simpletons_, Tom scoffed. In reality, he was more disgusted at himself for not having enough control to avoid this whole situation than at the gossipmongers who wouldn't let him forget it.

After what seemed like an inordinately long amount of time in where Tom battled with himself over whether or not to make the students regret talking about him while in his presence—consequences and legalities be damned—the decision was taken out of his hands when breakfast finally came to an end. Some of the Slytherins lingered along with the three, but a single harsh glare from Tom had them back in line.

Dippet beckoned them to him before the hall emptied. "Thank you for joining me. I won't take up too much of your day off," he said once they went to his side. "If you would just follow me…"

He led them through the door behind the High Table. Behind the door was a three-way corridor with narrow paths. He took the middle one, and the three followed with varying degrees of understanding.

Tom had been invited before to step behind the door meant only for the teachers. From the looks on Hadrian and Alphard's faces they'd never seen this part of the school. He knew this particular corridor led to a passage just outside the headmaster's office that only the professors could access.

Though the award would be held in the Trophy Room like his previous one, he'd received it in Dippet's office first. If he hadn't been completely sure before, Tom was now positive that the headmaster was going to award them for service to the school.

He was proven right when the three of them were finally in the headmaster's office. Orange sunlight illuminated the entire room despite last night's heavy shower. The portraits of former headmasters watched on unabashedly as the current headmaster moved on to the adjoining room.

In fact, Phineas Nigellus Black was quick to comment in a rather proud voice, "Two Black recipients in one day?"

Alphard gave who Tom recalled to be his great-grandfather a confused look. "Recipients of what?"

The deceased Black appeared unimpressed at his question. "You are insultingly slow, boy. Surely, one of my blood cannot be so dense?"

Alphard seemed appropriately insulted, but didn't dare talk back to his great-grandfather, even if it was his portrait and not really the man himself. Hadrian was frowning indignantly at the portrait (in his cousin's behalf, no doubt), but the former headmaster didn't seem to be aware of it.

He was prattling on about other Blacks who'd received this award, which, funnily enough, turned out to be a short list. Dippet's return saved them all from having to hear further about Phineas Nigellus Black's illustrious formative years as one of the brightest students of his age. It was all quite droll in Tom's opinion.

Dippet gestured them forward to his large desk, and laid out three gold shields. The one with Tom's name on it was identical to his old one, except that the engraved year was 1944 this time.

"On behalf of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I proudly present these awards to you for special services to the school," Dippet announced, sounding almost completely formal but for the usual air of happiness bubbling in his voice. "For your actions yesterday in protecting not only the students of Hogwarts but the town of Hogsmeade, I feel no compensation can be worthy enough. But, alas, I'm afraid this will have to do as a token of gratitude."

Tom listened with half an ear to his grand speech full of sentimental drivel that was only partly true. He was more interested in the reactions of his co-recipients, who were being presented with this for the first time.

Alphard's he could have guessed without having to look at the boy. The gray-eyed Black's hand touched the gold shield with his name as though it were the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on. He hung on to the headmaster's words, and appeared to puff up with each passing one.

Hadrian's reaction—not that Tom was too shocked there—was much more perplexing. Either he was doing a fine job of hiding his emotions or he didn't care very much for Dippet's brand of honor. A polite look was fixed onto his face and he smiled at all the right places but, beyond that, it was obvious he didn't hold much stock in the headmaster's words.

It was as if he couldn't care less about having received an award that would hang in Hogwarts' Trophy Room for many years to come; like it was an everyday occurrence to have this kind of thing handed to him.

He gave up trying to decipher more of the puzzle that was Hadrian Black when Dippet stopped speaking to gaze expectantly at them. Taking the initiative, Tom picked up his shield and gave the older wizard his charming Head Boy smile. "Thank you, headmaster. I am honored to have received this."

Dippet beamed at him. "And your second one, no less!"

Hadrian nodded his head politely. "Thank you for the regard sir," he said.

Alphard expressed his appreciation as well. Dippet waved them off, and then instructed the two Blacks to pick up their shields as Tom had done. Once again, they were made to follow the headmaster. He didn't say where but Tom knew it was to the Trophy Room, where they would be asked to put up their awards themselves in some sort of inane display of tradition and symbolism.

He was already thinking ahead to the end of this nonsense. He didn't wish to continue to dwell on the _Prophet _announcing his blunder to the entire country. Grindelwald, if he was in Great Britain at the moment, must have already read it as well.

He must look like an enemy to the Dark Lord, and so did several children from Dark pureblood families (the Blacks, Malfoys, Lestranges, Rosiers, and Dolohovs to name a few of the prominent fighters). He'd wager that Abraxas's letter had been from his parents, and the others must have received the same thing.

Tom knew better than to put himself (and his followers) in this kind of mess. He didn't want it to seem as if he opposed Grindelwald, though that didn't necessarily mean he was for him either. The Dark Lord's views were ones he supported, but he wanted to take over, wanted to be the only Dark Lord.

He wasn't ready for that now. He was powerful and intelligent, but he wasn't yet ready to challenge Grindelwald for that mantle. It would be stupid to do so at this point. Truth be told, he'd rather have the Dark Lord already taken care of for him, and then begin his ascent to power from his failure and disappointment of hundreds of purebloods who'd supported him. It would be the ideal situation.

And to think he might have messed up all his plans because of his enchantment over a boy he had no claim over. Glancing at the aforementioned boy, Tom decided he'd had enough of this dancing and dodging between them. It was high time he did something about it.

_He's either with me or… _Well, he wasn't in the habit of being rejected, or accepting 'no.'

**000**

After the whole ordeal with the award, Hadrian was quick to leave. It was his second time getting it, but he'd not experienced quite the same thing. Dumbledore had spared Ron and he the ceremony, and he was now thankful for it. It was rather pointless, really, particularly when he wasn't in the mood.

He wasn't all that close to the Dumbledore of this world, but he'd been angry at the way the _Prophet _had maligned the deputy headmaster. He didn't have much hope for that paper getting the facts straight, but they'd been completely unfair in twisting everything to portray Dumbledore in a bad light.

He scoffed self-deprecatingly at the thought. Since when had he been naïve enough to expect fairness from anyone?

The students were reminders of that cynical truth at the moment. No matter where he went in the castle, Hadrian had whispers following him and heads turning when they spotted him. As a famous wizard, he'd gotten used to that, had even learned to anticipate it whenever anyone recognized him. Since the _Daily Prophet's _arrival, he wouldn't have been surprised if that happened to him today.

What he hadn't counted on, however, was for the students to become more fixated on the kiss he'd shared with the Head Boy than on the attack itself. One would think that more newsworthy, but he was being proven wrong each time someone giggled and furtively talked with their friends about the "relationship" between Tom and he. Not that there was any such thing.

_Unfortunately, _the voice commented dryly. _That's what you were thinking, right?_

_Don't put words in my head._

_I notice you don't deny it._

"Hadrian."

Recognizing the voice of the very person who was plaguing his thoughts, Hadrian turned to see that Tom had caught up to him. Mr. Perfect Student had stayed behind to spout forth his usual song of pretty words at the headmaster while Hadrian had quietly slipped out of the Trophy Room. He had no clue where Alphard had gone off to after that.

For the first time after their kiss, Hadrian felt his heart thudding in his chest at the sight of the other boy. Talk about a delayed reaction. "Yes?"

He kept his expressions under control as Tom came closer to him, aware not only of his keen observational skills, but also the other students in the corridor pretending not to be watching. Tom's face was as implacable as it always was in the presence of students he wasn't trying to charm.

"A word, if you please?" Tom tilted his head in the direction of the nearest staircase.

"Certainly."

He didn't know how this was going to play out but Hadrian realized he was looking forward to the conversation he was positive Tom was pulling him aside for—especially as it seemed he was being led to the privacy of the Room of Requirement.

They could no longer delay the inevitable, and he was beginning to get tired of it anyway.

**000**

Tom announced his intentions by doing what he'd been longing to since Thursday morning.

The second the door closed behind Hadrian, he pushed him up against the wall and took pliant lips between his. Pliant because Hadrian was alarmed at the sudden action for about a nanosecond before he began to respond. Their lips moved against each other the way they should have during their first kiss. Slow, explorative yet sensual, and as though they were memorizing the exact feel and taste of the other.

Some distant part of him was sure he'd wanted to ease into this, had originally planned on first talking to Hadrian and officially laying his claim before he let his libido take charge. His conscious mind currently couldn't be arsed to care about that plan.

While not as intense as the one they'd shared earlier (mostly because their magic wasn't so intimately connected this time), Tom could confidently say this was one of the best kisses he'd ever had—and tongues weren't even involved yet. He'd admit he wasn't a real big fan of kissing. His partners were usually eager to pleasure him, and he didn't feel the need to do something this insignificant—which wasn't even very stimulating—in return. A couple of kisses here and there during foreplay were usually enough to make others forget that he didn't wish to be distracted with kissing in the heat of the moment.

Kissing Hadrian, though, Tom could tell was something he would never get tired of doing. He felt as though something was clicking into place for him; something he hadn't even known he was missing. It was like an almost-finished puzzle with one last part left to be placed, like a minor piece of the sky in a landscape puzzle. One could see the picture well enough, but it wasn't quite the same and wouldn't feel complete until that last piece was put in position.

Hadrian took the initiative to introduce his tongue into the kiss, effectively erasing all nonsensical analogies from his mind. He ran the wet appendage along Tom's bottom lip before Tom opened his mouth and drew both tongues into his mouth. He twined his tongue around Hadrian's, rubbing against and sucking on it, swallowing Hadrian's moan and returning it with a groan of his own.

Arms came around his back to pull him closer; Tom moved his previously idle hands to hold that exquisite face in his hands, caressing his thumb in circles across one high cheekbone. Hadrian's tongue stroked the surface of his tongue, the back of his palate, and prodded against the bottom of his throat in a way no one had ever had the nerve to do, but which proved to garner responses kissing alone hadn't ever been able to.

Hips pushed into him, causing him to feel a hard bulge rivaling his own. Gasping, Hadrian broke the kiss with a shudder, and it was all Tom could do to stop from rubbing against the erection pressing into his at the sight of his red and swollen lips. He couldn't contain the urge to get a taste of the beautiful expanse of flesh offered to him when Hadrian tilted his head back to catch his breath.

Tom licked collarbone first, swiped up to the bobbing Adam's apple, then latched onto the jugular, feeling the vein jump under his tongue before he sucked it into his mouth and did his best to leave his mark. Hadrian's hands dug into his hair, burrowing him deeper into his neck, a soft half-groan reverberating in his throat that got Tom's blood rushing down south much more quickly than his actual moans had.

Tom's own hands acquired a mind of their own as they released the pureblood's face and traveled down to run the length of his spine to the small of his back then circled around to the jut of his hip. Hadrian's erection pressing into his hip, and his mouth suddenly nipping and sucking and panting into his ear threatened to disrupt his slow progress. He was just about to abandon that in-retrospect-unrealistic intent when Hadrian freed his ear and began to draw away.

"W-wait. Tom…stop." Contradicting his words, he arched into Tom's lips when he continued to lick and bite up and down his neck. Hadrian's next attempt was firmer as he pulled back, his arms coming in-between them to give them space. "We can't do this," he said quietly.

_And why the hell not? _Tom kept from voicing the indignant thought and waited for Hadrian to continue with an arched brow.

"As much as I'm enjoying it," the green-eyed boy added, drawing a smug smirk from his partner, "I believe we have some things to discuss first."

In a moment of lucidity, Tom remembered how he'd wanted all this to go, and abruptly stepped back from the tempting picture a disheveled Hadrian made. He couldn't believe he'd allowed himself to lose control like that. There was a reason plans were made: to be executed, not discarded.

Glancing around the room for distraction, he noted that their desires had been mirrored in the room by way of a large black silk-covered bed in the center surrounded by dark red velvet drapes. Hadrian apparently found this funny. His contagious amusement permitted Tom a second to relax and think about what to do next.

The other Slytherin gave him a shrewd look, as though he knew exactly what was going through his mind. He glided over to the bed and sat down, glancing at Tom with come-hither eyes, which seemed a lot like his glimmer of challenge. Tom accepted the invitation (or the challenge), and joined him on the bed, though he gave them a little distance so as not to be tempted to touch.

Hadrian smiled at him like he knew what he was doing, and appeared almost thankful for his prudence. He brushed his hair out of the way, briefly revealing the scar on his forehead, and folded his legs one over the other. Tom sensed his nervousness, even if he was trying to hide it by busying himself. He couldn't say he was sure on how to proceed, either. This wasn't something he'd ever done before.

Hadrian took the first step and asked, "What does this mean for us now?"

The question, curiously enough, made it easier for Tom to carry on. Why were they taking it so seriously? He wasn't expecting some kind of poetic confession, and he doubted Hadrian was. They weren't girls who needed words and assurances of how the other felt. They were men; and they shouldn't have been surprised that their primal instincts took over before they'd even figured out what was between them.

Tom drew closer to Hadrian, the boy's brilliant eyes piercing him as he watched every move he made—from the way he brought up his hand to bury it in his dark hair to how his other hand ran down the neck he'd lavished attention on only a moment ago. But he didn't pull away, just watched him.

Finally, Tom answered him, "Whatever we want it to mean." Hadrian raised a brow to convey his need for elaboration. "I want you; and you want me, correct?"

A short pause later, Hadrian replied, "Yes."

"I warn you, I do not share."

"Nor I."

Tom traced around the red mark he'd left. "This makes you mine."

"And you mine." The tone dared him to refute the fact. He didn't bother, nor want to.

* * *

Not too explosive but at least you got some Tom-Hadrian scenes. And they're not dreams! A lot of this chapter is character development, mainly Tom and Hadrian's and their relationship. I'm sure you can tell it'll be rather rocky to begin with.

I just had the biggest, most annoying writer's block _ever_! Not with the plot or anything—I actually have almost all of the chapters outlined in detail—but with that horrible attack (almost 10K words's worth on its own). What the bloody hell was I thinking? I will be the first to say I am complete pants at writing fighting scenes. Seriously, I cannot impress upon you how many times I wrote and rewrote that until it was to my satisfaction. And it's still not! I completely hate it. If that scene weren't so very important to the plot, I think I would have scrapped it in frustration.

I know there isn't a lot of fighting involved in that scene. To me, the whole point of the attack was to set the mood for some very important things happening later and to learn more about certain things; like the Shadows and what's actually happening between Tom and Hadrian. Plus, fighting scenes kinda bore so I'm not a big fan of reading all about every maneuver and spell used. Turns out I don't like writing that either.

As for speculations about the **voice**, I'm proud to say many of you have guessed pretty close to the answer and some of you have even been rather spot on! (You can wonder about which of you I'm speaking of; yeah, I'm evil like that.)

OH! One last very important thing. If any of you are **fluent in** **German**, I would love it if you could consult me on the name for Grindelwald's followers. I was going for a word that meant _purifiers _or _exterminators_, like people who considered themselves cleansers of scum of the earth, i.e. Muggles and Muggleborns. This is during a time when the Nazis were doing the same thing and I thought it was kinda poetic. I searched hard for the closest word, but I don't think it worked out very well. So if there is a better word than **Reiniger**, please let me know. Thanks!

* * *

Edited: 6/14/10


	10. Lightning Strike, Part II

_**Hollow Thunder, Vital Lightning -**__Aariya_

Rating: NC-17 :Especially so from this chapter on. You've been warned!:

Pairing: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle

Genre: Drama, Romance, Fantasy, Action/Adventure

Summary: Life after Voldemort is ideal and perfect for everyone except the one who made it possible. Unbelievably bored and unhappy, Harry performs a spell that will take him to an alternate universe where he can be happiest with Voldemort. Even he hadn't expected the outcomes or how the spell would misinterpret his desires.

Warnings: _slash_; AU; Slytherin!Harry; Dark!Harry (sorta)...and another one I took out that you will have to figure out for yourself; it's kind of crucial to the plot so I can't tell you!

Spoilers: Compliant with first five books and includes information from six and seven.

**Disclaimer:** Harry and Tom sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I...wait, that didn't happen in the books. Oh; well, now you know I didn't write Harry Potter, because if I did, that would've happened in every other chapter.

.-.

"HTVL" - English, or other human languages

_HTVL - Thoughts, Spells, Special Text (titles and such)_

_"HTVL" - Parseltongue, Incanted Spells, or a language within a language _

_**HTVL - Parselmagic (spells and the language in writing)**_

* * *

**Author's Note: **Someone wisely told me that this might be in need of a (kinda thorough) recap considering how long it's been. I'm embarrassed to say that never occurred to me, but now that it's been brought to my attention, I'm more than happy to provide it...even though I'm really not fond of ANs at the beginning of the story. If you have _exceptional_ memory and would rather read on, just skip this. Sorry, I know it's really long (and gives the illusion of a longer chapter than there is; still, it's 12K so that's relatively long), but I'll take it down in about a month. Hope this helps jog your memory.

**WARNING: SPOILERS ABOUND IN RECAP (if you haven't read the other chapters, do not read on):**

Chapters 1-2: Harry, bored with his life following Voldemort's defeat, decides to perform a spell that will transport him to an alternate universe where he can be happy with Voldemort again. This spell would allow him to merge with his counterpart in the other universe, taking on his appearance, blood, abilities, knowledge, emotions, while also retaining all of who he is and dominance. He gets ready for his departure by writing his wills and farewell letters to his friends, who are none the wiser about what he's planning until after he leaves.

Chapter 3: Harry wakes up to see that he is now Hadrian Black, son of Regulus and Adrianna Black. Before the merge, his counterpart had been a soft-spoken, somewhat introverted, intellect, who'd been more accepting of the merge than expected because he, too, was unsatisfied with his life. Much to his disappointment, Harry/Hadrian realizes it's 1944, where instead of Lord Voldemort, there is a 17-year-old Tom Riddle. To add insult to injury, he lives in Paris with his parents, where he attends Beauxbatons, not Hogwarts. He immediately sets out to correct this travesty; his parents have no problem transferring him to Hogwarts as soon as possible. Afterward, as Hadrian, Harry gets to attend his first almost-exclusively pureblood gathering: his cousin Lucretia Black's engagement.

Chapter 4: Hogwarts is in session, and everyone is excited to welcome the transfer student, especially Tom Riddle. With his natural ability of natural perception, Tom senses the amount of magic Hadrian Black has command of; also, his own magic has an inexplicable reaction to the proximity of the other boy's. Hadrian is not like other Slytherins who immediately defer to Tom, making it clear early on that he refuses to submit. This refusal incites the ire of Tom's right-hand, Renatus Lestrange, who decides to tell Hadrian exactly what he thinks about his free association with Tom, much to his detriment as Hadrian let's it be known that he is no pushover. What intrigues Tom even more about Hadrian is finding out that he is a Shadow Lord. Hadrian's cousins are surprised by this new side of him, and are even more baffled to learn he is planning on joining the Quidditch team.

Chapter 5: Hadrian tries out for the Slytherin Quidditch team, and easily secures the Seeker position. Tom, uncomfortable with the effect Hadrian has on him, decides he needs time away from him so he begins to ignore him, much to Hadrian's chagrin. Hadrian, meanwhile, busies himself with setting up a meaningless prank on the whole school during breakfast. The Slytherin-Ravenclaw Defense class is given their term assignment. Tom and Hadrian are partnered up to create an object from scratch and to ward it well enough to stump the rest of their classmates. The pair whose object is warded better than any other's will receive automatic Os on their Defense practical exam. Tom, whilst continuing his search for immortality, runs across the Shadows again (also referred to as the Ancient Ability). He learns a little more about what it means to be a Shadow Lord, and that there might be a key to becoming immortal in the ability. Faced with this knowledge of what Hadrian is capable of, he decides to stop ignoring him and turn on the charm. Hadrian, on the other hand, in another moment of rebellion against Tom's imposed rule, does not show up on time to discuss their project. In the process of reacquainting himself with the joys of sex (with Ravenclaw Cassius Zabini), Tom walks in on them, and he is not happy. But he and Hadrian work out their differences enough to come up with a plan for their project. They decide to invent an object, specifically a compass that would allow them to find out the locations of people, places, etc. At the end of the month, Hadrian overhears Harrison Potter and Sebastian MacMillan talking, and is surprised to find out that James was Harrison's brother, that he and Lily Potter had been a part of this universe. And that Harrison apparently has a nephew that his family is still searching for.

Chapter 6 (sooo long!): Hadrian is reeling from this revelation, thinking that his parents have lied to him, but he ends up deciding to give them the benefit of the doubt until he finds out more. He refuses to give up on it, though, and comes up with a plan for learning the story from Sebastian. His lack of focus on anything but that does not go unnoticed by Tom, though Tom's interest is not held for long in the face of an interesting spell book that Hadrian loans him. Sebastian is all too happy to tell Hadrian all the gory details of James and Lily's deaths in 1933 if Hadrian can find a way to help Harrison out. Harrison's family holds a Day of Remembrance for James every Halloween in honor of his death, something that is very personal and important (and, incidentally, rare) among pureblood families; his parents, however, are not allowing him to attend this year because of the continued threat of Grindelwald. In exchange, Hadrian shows Sebastian an old book containing wizarding codes of honor that has what he's looking for to help Harrison. Quidditch practice starts, and Hadrian's captain, Anastius Zabini (Cassius's brother), is very gung-ho about defeating Gryffindor, namely Harrison Potter. After practice, he comes to Hadrian for advice on Jezebel Greengrass, whom he is completely besotted with, and who is also out of his league. Cassius tries in vain to get Hadrian's attention again, while Renatus also tries in vain to get Tom to take him seriously. Tom and Hadrian start the first phase of their project: making the potion they will need for their ritual on the full moon. This time, Tom is perceptive to and interested in Hadrian's less enthusiastic demeanor, and he asks him what is going on with him. Hadrian reveals he hates Halloween, confessing that something bad always happens to him during that time. What he's hiding is that his scar is hurting again, though there is no Voldemort, and he is expecting the worst. The two's dynamic changes when something inexplicable and strangely intimate happens between them. To escape this friction and the tension he is feeling as a result of Halloween coming, Hadrian seeks out Cassius. But their moment together is interrupted when Alphard comes to tell him Lucretia has sent her wedding invitations and would like her cousins to pass them out. Hadrian does not notice the jealousy Alphard is trying to contain in seeing him locking lips with Cassius, but his cousin is appeased when he ascertains that things are not serious between the two (on Hadrian's part, at least). The awkwardness between Tom and Hadrian after their moment together dissipates when Hadrian gives Tom his invitation, which is useless to Tom as he cannot go anywhere without Dumbledore watching his every move. Quidditch failing to expel the tension, Hadrian tries to do so with his Animagus form, but he finds that he is no longer a thestral but a Drake; knowing nothing about Drakes, he endeavors to educate himself before he does anything with his form. That same day, the _Daily Prophet _reports that Grindelwald attacked Paris, just miles away from where Hadrian and his parents live, which worries him greatly. Tom is the only thing serving to distract him from that worry when they head out to do create their Scrying Compass. After the ritual outside, they retire inside to ward the compass, which transitions into a duel that ends in stalemate, much to Tom's surprise. What Hadrian was afraid happens when, on Halloween, the pain in his scar increases to the point that he passes out in the common room and sees what had happened in the world he'd left behind. In the morning, Tom finds him sleeping on the couch; he sees Hadrian's scar for the first time and is overcome with a sensation of power when he touches it. At the Samhain party held by the Dark students, Tom and Hadrian garner attention when they slip out for another duel.

Chapter 7: While Hogwarts is abuzz with gossip about Tom and Hadrian's possible involvement, their dynamic changes once again following a supercharged duel that ends with Tom trapping Hadrian with his magic, and Hadrian getting turned on by that. Disgusted by his reaction, Hadrian concludes he's sexually frustrated and once again seeks out Cassius. Finally, the two do what they'd been trying to since September, but it does absolutely nothing for Hadrian. He still refuses to acknowledge his attraction to Tom, though, and tries to do everything to ignore this fact. Tom discerns what happened between Hadrian and Cassius, and his dislike for Zabini burns with more ferocity. To bring him out of another funk, Tom engages Hadrian in another duel, despite what happened last time. This one ends up being even weirder as Hadrian reacts very strangely to petrifying Tom. The strange feeling he experienced during the duel has Hadrian going out of his way to avoid Tom. Alphard tries to take advantage of the obvious rift between them by spending time with his cousin, though Tom manages to make it a fact-finding mission for him. Rumors are still rife in Hogwarts, but that is put to a halt when Hadrian brings about a spectacular win for Slytherin against Gryffindor in the first Quidditch match of the year. At the celebratory party, Slughorn invites Hadrian to be a member of the Slug Club. That night, Hadrian has a very odd dream about him and Tom being very intimate. The dream also shows him executing a Shadow ability that he does not have, which prompts him to try to see if he can attain it. But what the dream really reveals without a doubt—after he wakes with a persistent erection—is that he is attracted to Tom. That evening, Hadrian attends the Slug Club supper with Tom and the other Slytherins, and it fails to have the desired impression on him. There, Hadrian finally makes peace with his attraction when he suggests to Tom that the supper could be spiced up with a dueling stand.

Chapter 8: Hadrian makes progress with mastering his Drake form. Hufflepuff Noah Vaisey asks Hadrian for his opinion on a chance of a date with Alphard; Hadrian offers to relay the message to him. Noah initiates a debt with Hadrian to show his gratitude, though Hadrian thinks it's unnecessary. Tom's search for immortality continues not to bear fruit. Hadrian tells Alphard about Noah, but his cousin does not react the way he'd anticipated. From Anastius, Hadrian finds out it will be Cassius's birthday the next day, and he takes Alphard through a secret passageway to Hogsmeade to get him a gift. Cassius receives the gift—a book on Animating—during breakfast, which infuriates Tom. He's only further incensed when he sees them together later, though Hadrian only makes it clear to him that he wants to be just friends. But that doesn't appease Tom, especially not when Cassius kisses Hadrian, something that pushes him into almost torturing him right there until he gets interrupted. Alphard tells Hadrian he's accepted Noah's invitation for a date on the upcoming Hogsmeade visit, which Hadrian is glad to hear but he is also perplexed by his lack of enthusiasm. He doesn't have long to think about it as he and Tom do the ritual to make their Scrying Compass able to find Unplottable locations. The combination of their magic has an unexpected result, making it seem as though they'd put more magic than they really had into the compass. Tom takes the compass to study what had happened more. Later, once they're done, Tom offers to be Hadrian's guide in Hogsmeade, and it's like he's asking him out on a date. And that's just what it feels like when they do get to Hogsmeade, but all that is interrupted when Grindelwald's forces attack.

Chapter 9: Hadrian throws himself fully into the attack, despite both Alphard and Tom's advice. The Imperius Curse takes hold of Cassius and he almost kills Noah when he jumps in front of a curse meant for Alphard. Tom blasts him clear away to break the standstill, not to say that he doesn't thoroughly enjoy it. Hadrian has an idea to get the students and other innocent bystanders safely out of the town. He tells Alphard that he will provide distraction while he spirits them away through the Honeydukes passageway he'd shown him. Tom, though averse to the idea of Hadrian putting himself in danger, is unwilling to leave him to handle the danger alone. The two fight with perfect form and synchronicity, volleying spells back and forth while back-to-back. Hadrian's single for Alphard to start moving becomes evident when he casts a Patronus. However, his Patronus is not what he'd been expecting to see; instead of his stag, out comes a black mamba. While surprised, he can't lament for long as he sends his Patronus to Alphard to tell him to start moving. He clears a path for Alphard by covering a wide area on either side of Honeydukes with his Shadows; he makes it both invisible and able to deflect stray spells. But they don't go unnoticed for long as Grindelwald's men see what is happening; to keep them away from Alphard, Hadrian uses his Shadows to take possession of them and turn them against their own forces. Meanwhile, Tom, seeing an opportunity he cannot pass up, saves a hated Gryffindor classmate, Owen Padrig, from the Cruciatus so that Padrig will owe him a life debt. When Hadrian begins to become exhausted with all the spells he is maintaining, Tom's magic is eager to help him out and join with his. The effect is quite extraordinary, and not only for the amazing way it makes them feel; their combined force serves to make the enemy pause and the whole town aware. The Ministry finally joins the battle when Aurors attempt to get rid of the Anti-Apparition Jinx keeping them out. Tom and Hadrian lend a hand when the opposition fights back. But they do not have time to unravel the wards delicately—especially as the Aurors' efforts are hindering instead of helping—so, with the amount of magic at their fingertips, they use brute force to just bring the whole thing down. All that magic used in tandem is so pleasurable that it pushes them into coming together for their first kiss. Once the high wears off, they're slightly embarrassed to have done that where everyone saw. But both are soon busy speculating as to why Grindelwald's attack was so uninspiring and underwhelming, and both come to the conclusion that this is only the beginning, that Grindelwald had planned this as the announcement of his arrival to Britain. Though the attack had been smaller than anticipated, there are still many in the hospital wing, most of who have minor injuries. One such injury is Jezebel Greengrass, who reveals to Hadrian that she survived an even worse fate because of Anastius. In his room, Tom mulls over the events of the attack, focusing particularly on Hadrian odd behavior: the way he fought as though he had experience and his Patronus. His thoughts then turn to figuring out what had happened with the Scrying Compass after the last ritual. The answer comes to him when he remembers the way he and Hadrian's magic had shifted after they'd joined, and he realizes that that had not been the first time they'd done it. The persistent voice congratulates him on working that out, but isn't confident that he will figure out the why of it; either way, Tom decides to keep this revelation from Hadrian until he can. The next morning, the _Daily Prophet_ reports on the attack, hailing Tom, Hadrian, and Alphard as heroes and vilifying Dumbledore for his lack of involvement. The headmaster seems to agree with the paper and presents the boys awards for special services to the school. Following that, Tom and Hadrian discuss what the kiss means for them now. Their mutually possessive nature does most of the work for them, as they agree that they want each other and are equally incapable of sharing.

...Well, that ended up being longer than I wanted, but I thought it was better to provide a blow-by-blow recount of events so you weren't forced to go and reread everything. I'm just sorry some people already had to do that before I got around to doing this; oops. Thanks a bunch to the reviewer who pointed it out to me, and happy reading!

* * *

Chapter 10: Lightning Strike, Part II

* * *

Hadrian was quite sure this was nowhere near how he'd imagined this conversation going. The entire situation felt so surreal he was having a hard time believing it was happening.

It was not a feeling he was unfamiliar with, but not even in his wildest dreams would he have thought he'd be amicably discussing the chance of a relationship with Voldemort.

For his own peace of mind, he should probably stop thinking of him as that.

He couldn't remember the last time he was in an actual relationship. Besides the disastrous one with Cho Chang (which he refused to acknowledge), he'd been with two girls after her. One had lasted for a few weeks, in where he'd discovered the joys of sex—albeit only with a girl. Then he'd wasted two months agonizing over whether his new girlfriend just wasn't as attractive as his old or if all girls had really lost their charm.

He wasn't as upset as he'd thought he'd be when he came to terms with being gay—especially since sex with a guy was _much _better. His first boyfriend lasted for all of a month before the war, training to become a Shadow Lord, and making sure he could defeat Voldemort overshadowed everything else. He couldn't make time for anything but basic urges.

He didn't have much experience where the old Hadrian was concerned either. Though it had taken only one girl to realize he was gay, Hadrian had been with his first boyfriend for even shorter—a mere week—before an older boy had caught his attention. Nothing had come of it, and he'd had a string of passing flings after that, though laughably short in comparison to the number of flings he'd had as Harry.

It seemed neither of their history was much equipped for handling this type of thing.

Hadrian looked back at the boy sitting beside him and decided he was all right with that. Tom was right. He wanted him and was wanted in return; there was no need to further complicate it. He'd just let things proceed as they were and see where it led him. After all, he'd crossed a universe for Voldemort and had gotten Tom instead. He may as well reap the benefits from that mix-up.

Not to mention, his partner was as ill-equipped when it came to this as he was; probably even more so. Small comfort, but comfort all the same. At least, some of his uncertainties on this dauntingly unknown territory he was preparing to tread were laid to rest.

Tom's touch burnt with possessiveness as he lightly brushed the mark he'd imprinted on his skin, his dark eyes reflecting the same possessiveness as his touch. It was a pleasant burn, though, and it dawned on him that he shouldn't enjoy being perceived as a possession, especially by Tom Riddle.

Hadrian knew their dominant nature would forever clash, had known even before that oh-so lovely dream he'd had last week. Hence, he had to make it clear to Tom here and now that he wasn't just for the taking. He refused to roll over and be owned. He was more than ready to give just as much as he got.

At the moment, he couldn't think of a better way to do that than to leave his own visible claim on the Slytherin.

He shifted onto his knees on the large bed, and eliminated the space between them by slowly drawing nearer to the other boy. Tom's gaze followed him until he was looking up as Hadrian sat on his knees before him. Tom's hands encircled his waist and pulled him flush against his body. He could feel the heat coming from him even through their clothes.

Hadrian smiled down at him, unable to resist the urge to card his fingers through the silky hair beneath his hands. "We've got that settled, then?" he asked softly.

He held back a smirk at the sound Tom made in the back of his throat, which sounded suspiciously like a pleased hum. Apparently, the future Dark Lord liked his hair played with.

"It would appear so," Tom drawled, opening one eye when both had fallen shut under Hadrian's ministrations. He reciprocated by running his own hands up Hadrian's woefully sensitive spine, who couldn't have stopped the shiver that ran through him even if he'd wanted to.

"Have you anything else to add?"

"No; absolutely nothing."

"Good."

Hadrian leaned down to press a kiss to Tom's jaw while his hands moved to loosen the other boy's tie. He trailed his lips down slowly, to where jaw met neck, lingered there a bit to bestow upon it his full admiration, then lower to the vulnerable point that was Tom's jugular. Before he could so much as lick, forget sucking, Tom grabbed his head and tugged him up for a demanding kiss. It was really rather hard to be upset when that hot tongue was doing such delightful things to his mouth.

He succumbed to the feeling for now, though he was determined not to let Tom distract him. He _would _be marking his intent before they left here. He hesitated in doing just that when he remembered one more very important thing they had to discuss.

He withdrew from the kiss and pulled away, giving Tom a firm look as he declared, "I have one stipulation."

"My, it's barely been an hour and you're already making demands," Tom drawled, expression half-amused and half-inquisitive.

"I'd hardly call it a demand. Besides, I doubt it's one you'll disagree with me on."

"Let's have it, then."

"This," he began, gesturing significantly at the both of them, rather unwilling to actually put a name to it, "must stay between us. I don't enjoy the idea of others knowing and talking about us as if we're the latest bit of gossip from the British League."

"That is a condition? I was under the impression it was already understood."

Hadrian smiled satisfactorily. He hadn't seriously considered that Tom would object, but he'd been partially prepared to deal with Tom's overly possessive nature; for it to rear its head, to want to make sure everyone was aware Hadrian belonged to him. Of course, he would have never let Tom get away with doing something like that. However, it was nice to know they could be in accord outside of a battlefield.

"Brilliant. It's good we understand each other," he expressed with meaning. Maybe this wasn't going to be as impossible as he'd thought.

"Indeed," was the absent response. Tom's large, surprisingly very hot hands were caressing the skin of his back, somehow having found a way past his robes and shirt without his notice. He smirked at Hadrian's reaction when he ran a finger down his spine. "You like that, don't you?" he purred, breath hot against his ear.

Hadrian scarcely kept from rolling his eyes at his smug tone. Figured it wouldn't take long for Tom to try to use that against him. Refusing to confirm his query, he pushed him back onto the bed and ordered him to "Stop talking."

**000**

The week following the Hogsmeade Debacle—so the papers had taken to calling it once the initial shock had worn off, as though it hadn't been a real attack; how typical of them to blow it out of proportion one moment then downplay it the next—life at Hogwarts returned to some semblance of normalcy.

Except, naturally, for the fact that the students refused to forget the very public kiss Tom and he had shared. The last person Hadrian would have expected to confront him about it was Abraxas, but his cousin had been the first to do anything beyond stare and whisper.

The decision to keep their "relationship" (He was still rather uncomfortable with the word, or labeling whatever it was he had with Tom, for that matter, but it wasn't as ill-fitting as any number of other words.) private had turned out to be a futile endeavor the moment any of the students saw either of them. Everyone was already convinced they had been together for a while, apparently even before they themselves had been aware of their attraction.

Nevertheless, they'd both kept up appearances and acted no differently in public than before, allowing the students to draw their own conclusions. Or cast doubts, as the case may be where some were concerned. Despite the students' correct assumptions, Hadrian hadn't wanted what he and Tom shared to be a sort of entertainment for them, and Tom had been of the same mind. So, although there was no point in secrecy, they persisted with the façade of remaining friends.

Certain people, however, could not be so easily deceived or swayed. He hadn't thought it possible for Lestrange to hate him more than he already did, but he was finding new depths to the level of hatred the Slytherin had for him. While Lestrange had yet to voice the looks he gave him, Hadrian could tell it would only be a matter of time before he did so.

He didn't give two shits about Lestrange's response, though. Cassius's, on the other hand, had bothered him more than he'd anticipated. There was no reason it should have, of course. He hadn't been that emotionally involved with the boy to begin with, and now that they were nothing more than friends, he definitely shouldn't have been concerned how Cassius reacted to him (allegedly) being with someone else.

His hostile dorm mate and the Ravenclaw had been easy to figure out, but Alphard's reaction continued to baffle him. Hadrian had been sure he would talk to him about it; he'd even been ready to deflect the questions he would have been likely to ask. Instead, all Alphard did was throw him sidelong glances loaded with emotions he couldn't even begin to decipher.

One moment he would think it was dejection or betrayal or some other wounded-looking expression along the same lines. And then it would transform into what he could only guess as longing or resignation. None of them made any sense either way, and he'd be forced to start wondering when Alphard, of all people, had gotten so hard to read.

Stranger yet, though, was that it seemed his cousins had switched places. Abraxas was the type who was content with simply observing and keeping his thoughts to himself until presented an opportunity in where he could share them at the exact moment when he would appear most superior in comparison to others.

Whether he had done so this time Hadrian could not know. A full day hadn't even passed since his talk with Tom in the Room of Requirement before Abraxas had voiced his thoughts on all that was happening.

Abraxas had approached him during what was supposed to be his routine walk to lunch with Alphard at the end of Double Defense Against the Dark Arts on Monday. Alphard had gone ahead without him, and, though he'd found it odd, he'd been pathetically less preoccupied with it than the fact that he couldn't show up with Tom because neither of them wanted to draw attention by doing something different.

What the fuck was wrong with him? It was just a bloody walk to the Great Hall.

He'd welcomed the temporary distraction of Abraxas's puzzling behavior. The blond had been peculiarly more emotional and considerate than was normal for him. Hadrian had begun to feel like he'd stepped into an alternate reality within an alternate reality, where Alphard was the more aloof one of his cousins and Abraxas the more open.

And where a minor inconvenience that shouldn't have bothered him at all apparently bothered him.

At first, Abraxas hadn't indicated there was anything he wanted to talk about. But he'd hinted at a need for privacy by walking slowly, forcing Hadrian to keep with his pace until the corridor was empty of all students. Still, he'd kept quiet, which had convinced Hadrian that he must have something big to say for him not to have kept even polite conversation going.

Hadrian finally broke the silence once only the sounds of their footsteps remained. "Is there something you want to talk about?"

"Yes," Abraxas said succinctly, his tone implying he'd been waiting for Hadrian to say something before he spoke. "I wish to speak to you about Tom."

"Oh? What's there to say about—"

Abraxas immediately dismissed his words as though he couldn't fathom anyone disagreeing with him. "Please don't insult my intelligence. That…_incident_," he appended, making it sound like he'd chosen that specific word only for courtesy's sake but had many other things he'd rather call it, "may have convinced everyone else of what they already suspected was happening, but it only confirmed for me what I knew would happen the moment you two met."

And by 'that incident' Hadrian had to infer he meant the kiss, and 'you two' could only mean Tom and him. Not that that was a big mystery. A bigger one was that he was even having this conversation. Seriously, was this happening? _Abraxas _was bringing this up?

Dreading where it was headed, he cautiously asked, "And that would be?"

"That, eventually, both you and Tom would act on the palpable attraction between you," Abraxas informed with the air of one revealing a simple truth only he was privy to.

"You believe there was some sort of _attraction _when we first met?" Hadrian couldn't help laughing at the idea. His reaction to first seeing Tom Riddle was nothing short of dislike.

Abraxas's expression was smug and patiently indulgent, which made it all the more infuriating when he said, "It is all right if you want to deny it."

Hadrian refused to take the bait, so he let it slide, and gamely ignored his cousin's knowing smirk. "I believe you wished to talk about the present and not the past?"

Here, Abraxas came to a halt and turned to him with a solemn frown. Hadrian, too, stopped walking to face him, a little curious about the uncharacteristically earnest expression on the blond's face. His curiosity was further heightened when the Malfoy heir placed both hands on his shoulders, silver eyes no longer reflecting his customary look of superiority but something like slight concern.

"Hadrian, I realize you are trying to keep your situation with Tom private, but you must also realize I am not a fool to fall for such a ploy. Being discreet doesn't change the fact that I _know_, and no amount of denial or deception is going to convince me otherwise," Abraxas said in a firm and persuasive voice that might have had Hadrian spilling everything to him if he were a lesser person.

In that moment, though, he could see a glimpse of the man he would one day become. A man a lot like their grandfather, the ever-commanding Artemas Malfoy, somewhat like his cunning father Octavian, and even a little like his mother Ceres, whose deadly charm never failed to get her what she wanted.

Despite Hadrian's momentary lapse, Abraxas removed his hands and continued without missing a beat, "So let us kindly skip the part where I suggest you are involved with Tom, you insist on telling me I am imagining it, and neither of us gets anywhere."

Hadrian felt his brows furrow in confusion. He resisted the urge to deny his claims and instead asked the more pressing question, "What's wrong? I have never known you to forgo subtlety." Or the chance to participate in the delicate dance of getting one to reveal their secrets. It was like sport for a Malfoy.

They began moving once more, only until they turned the corner to the next corridor, and he was led to the wall opposite the Muggle Studies classroom and stopped again. Hadrian leaned against it, though Abraxas opted out, no doubt some type of fear for the state of his impeccable robes driving him. Just as Hadrian was poised to repeat it, the blond finally answered his question.

"As your more informed cousin, I feel obligated to warn you—"

"About Tom?" Hadrian interrupted incredulously.

That earned him a mildly annoyed glance. "Please allow me the courtesy of finishing."

Well. If he'd had doubts before, Hadrian could now be sure that his cousin was very serious about "warning him." He couldn't remember the last time Abraxas had been short with him—and just over disrupting him.

"All right; my apologies. Please continue," he urged, trying to sound contrite.

Abraxas nodded as if to say thank you. "I understand what I'm saying may seem absurd to you. You probably believe you know Tom well enough but, trust me, he may surprise you. Never underestimate his capacity for thinking only of himself. He is rather more charming than you think. I was personally aware of that for five years and yet I still fell for it." He paused for a short moment, then added, "Normally, I would be mostly amused. But you're family, Hadrian, and it's unacceptable for me to say nothing."

_Wow._ He hadn't seen that coming, especially from Abraxas.

Abraxas, who'd once destroyed Walburga's entire winter wardrobe during their childhood because she'd chosen Julius over him for the vacant spot on her _big_ kids' team. And then, of course, there had been the more recent instance during the summer of their fifth year. One of his father's prospective students found himself unable to locate his wand for two weeks after he'd proven to be better at warding than Abraxas could ever hope to be in under a month.

Yeah; Abraxas was charming like that.

Now, almost two years later, that same boy, whose air of entitlement was worse than practically anyone else, was standing here actually thinking about someone besides himself? Though he had to concede that, for a Malfoy, family _was _most important. No matter how self-involved, they usually looked out for blood—albeit only those of pure blood.

Abraxas gave a small put-upon sigh, presumably at Hadrian's lack of reaction—visible, at least. He tried again from a different angle. "Look, I'm not going to waste mine and your time trying to convince you you shouldn't do it. We both know you will not heed me. However, it would be rather remiss of me not to give you healthy advice that I could have used."

Hadrian remembered the rumors he'd heard during his first weeks at Hogwarts. The ones hinting that Tom and Abraxas had been more than just friends two years ago (as much as anyone could be friends with Tom, at least). Was he now confirming that bit of gossip Hadrian had staunchly been ignoring?

"What are you saying, Abraxas?" he asked slowly.

His cousin's answering smile could only be called cynical. "You know exactly what I'm saying. I suppose I can recognize your doubt. I, too, would be a little skeptical."

Hadrian was afraid to ask his next question. He asked anyway, "Are you…in love with him?"

The response he got was a mixture of horror and morbid amusement, which, he had to admit, took some skill to pull off. Yet, despite himself, he found he was hugely relieved.

"Merlin, no." Abraxas chuckled, giving him a look that seemed to wonder why he would ever ask such a silly question. Well, pardon him for being curious. "Come now, cousin, you know me better than that. I am not as hopeless a fool as Renatus."

"My apologies," Hadrian found himself saying for the second time in less than five minutes. Leave it to Abraxas to get that out of him. "I had to ask."

"No, I was definitely never in love with Tom," said Abraxas, a little mirth still in his voice. He splayed his hand up against the stone wall in an understated motion Hadrian picked up as discomfort, and explained further, "But I was naïve, and I thought I was worth more to him than I actually was. For Tom Riddle, however, your worth can only be measured by how useful you are to him. I learned that before it was too late, and I shan't be making that mistake again."

"I appreciate your concern, Abraxas—no, I really do," Hadrian insisted when he was given a disbelieving stare. "I mean, to be honest, I'm having a hard time recalling when you last thought of someone else," he teased, though partly serious.

"That's cute. Are you always so witty, or do you save that just for me?" Abraxas deadpanned.

Hadrian resisted the urge to snort. The blond had an odd sense of humor, like he wasn't even aware he was being funny. "As I believe it—and pardon me if I sound at all condescending—you were fifteen. I am not. I'd like to think I'm a little wiser and more experienced.

"Just because my circumstances with Tom have changed, it doesn't suddenly mean I am going to be any more trusting of him than I used to be. I may not know him as well as I think, but I am secure in the knowledge that I know him well enough. Moreover, you Slytherins have a hero-worship for him that I do not share nor comprehend."

"Naturally. He's Salazar Slytherin's heir," Abraxas stated, as if that explained it all.

Hadrian supposed it did to him and all the others who chose to follow Tom. He'd never get it, and wished that Abraxas didn't either. He was intimately aware of how Voldemort had treated his followers, and he suspected the only thing that would stop Tom from outright Cruciating them was Hogwarts' wards. There were, of course, other ways to torture one, many even worse than the Cruciatus if used properly, as evidenced by his Shadows.

Why anyone would choose to follow someone who would torment them was beyond him. Frankly, he'd thought Abraxas smarter than that. At least he wasn't so blinded by Tom's power that he didn't see _some _of his faults.

"That means nothing to me," Hadrian assured, just to drive home the fact that his cousin needn't worry.

The Malfoy heir nodded understandingly. "Yes. You have never been very concerned with the social standing of people; though you are a Black and a _Malfoy_. That means something, you realize? There are some who are plainly below your notice, Hadrian. It's the order of things."

Hadrian waved him off. "Leave it, Brax. I simply don't care."

"Brax? You haven't called me that since we were six," the blond recalled, walking into step with him when Hadrian's stomach finally began to protest against the lack of food.

"Are you hoping for a resurrection?"

"Absolutely not." Abraxas cringed, looking and sounding appalled. "To be given such an uncouth moniker at this age would be the height of indignity."

Hadrian thought he was being a little melodramatic but didn't say so. Besides, he was too busy mulling over what he'd been so generously warned of.

He didn't think he'd fall for any of Tom's tricks, or become so smitten as to overlook his more unsavory qualities. Even so, there was a very distant part of him that had a few doubts. His earlier reaction to not being able to go to the Great Hall with Tom certainly didn't reassure him.

Dammit. This was why he didn't do relationships. (Whatever he called it in his head, that's basically what it was.) There were always these stupid insecurities that came along with it. Trying to keep it fun or telling himself it wasn't serious didn't help either.

**000**

It surprised Tom how easily they'd fallen into a new routine. So easily, in fact, that both he and Hadrian had shown up at the Room of Requirement on Saturday, even though their project had been complete.

Neither was forgetful, but it seemed their meetings were no longer being associated with their project. Since confirming where each stood with the other last Sunday, it had been all Tom could think of, and he suspected he wasn't alone in that regard.

The last meeting they should have had was on Thursday when all they had wanted to do on their project was finished. In comparison to the earlier work done on the Scrying Compass, altering it so the magical object mimicked a portkey was relatively easy. The whole process took only half of the time they'd set aside for work.

Tom handled the intricacies of seamlessly tying the portkey command into the compass without it interfering with the magic already at work. Hadrian cast the spell and tailored it so the portkey would activate when the compass found the destination. Then Tom joined him to add enough magic so that the portkey worked each time, no matter the place, and would accommodate an endless and ever-changing string of locations.

After, they put the finishing touches on the compass. Not wanting their professor or classmates to know how much magic and effort they had actually put into this, they concealed everything but the simplest of magic.

Throughout it all, Tom tried to maintain his professionalism. Somehow, he doubted he succeeded. He wasn't entirely to blame, though. Hadrian appeared to be having difficulty wholly concentrating on their work as well. That was reassuring, at least. It was good to know he wasn't the only one affected by this.

Still, it rankled how much influence this…thing between them seemed to have over him. He'd not imagined he would behave any differently, except that he could now act on any urge he had to touch the boy. Which, in retrospect, should have lessened now that he could, but it hadn't and he found he was even more tempted.

He felt that need especially so today, as they'd only just established their relationship—loath though he was to call it that—four days ago, and hardly seen much of each other outside of classes and public places the days before.

Not to mention, their usual Tuesday meeting had been canceled because the Heads of Houses had called an unscheduled and wholly irritating prefect meeting so they could lecture them on trying to help any pathetic, weak-willed student who'd been psychologically affected by the attack. Tom had been forced to waste two hours he could have spent with Hadrian getting briefed on how to handle sniveling students who were likely to approach him. Merlin help the fool who dared to seek him out for comfort.

Knowing they would be meeting this evening had held them back from trying to sneak in a moment unseen. That, and their pride, of course.

Tom refused to be led by his desires so he'd dared not initiate anything this prematurely. It certainly wouldn't do to appear desperate, or for Hadrian to know how affected he was by him. But tonight, when the desire bubbled just under the surface of his skin, overwhelmed his entire body, threatened to suffocate his every sense should he let it out, it proved to be difficult to act impervious.

The air around them was charged, as it tended to be when they were in the same room together. Every action of Hadrian's seemed to signal to his brain to inundate him with arousal he really could do without right now. When Hadrian's hair fell into his face, Tom's fingers itched to brush it aside, and the longing was so completely maudlin he fought not to act on it. The way he nibbled on his lower lip between his teeth made Tom positively ache with the need to take those lips into his own mouth, and, _Merlin_, wasn't that just beyond pathetic?

This was truly maddening. To think that he, Tom Riddle, could be so easily thwarted by teenage hormones.

To his credit, Tom managed to hold off until they'd finished working on their project.

"Finally, we're done," Hadrian announced once they'd completed everything in their plans. He turned to put the compass and their notes in Tom's bag.

Tom leaned back on the couch, crossing one leg over his knee and placing an arm on Hadrian's side of the sofa. "Yes," he agreed.

"I must admit I'll miss working on it, though," Hadrian commented. He looked over at him and smiled softly. "We make a pretty good team."

"Yes," Tom repeated absently.

Hadrian joined him in sitting more comfortably on the couch, his shoulders resting against Tom's arm. A clock appeared on the wall facing them, presumably at Hadrian's request because he remarked, "Ah, a full hour and thirty minutes early. Whatever shall we do with our free time?"

Tom chose to answer that with the only response he could currently even begin to conceive. Before, they would have instantly begun a duel, but, right now, neither was capable of thinking about anything beyond reacquainting their lips and tongue.

He snaked his arm around Hadrian's shoulders and pulled him close until their bodies were touching. He uncrossed his legs and angled his body slightly for better access, then leaned over to the pureblood. Hadrian pressed forward, wrapping a pleasantly warm hand around his neck, and tilted his head up to accommodate him.

Tom sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, coaxing him into a light kiss that had blood rushing to his head and doing strange things to his stomach. Hadrian's other hand gripped the front of his robes tightly. He jerked him forward to deepen the kiss, and Tom was made to forget the odd fluttering sensation and anything else that wasn't a purely physical reaction.

Then it was he who was being drawn into a warm mouth and tangling with a hot, wet tongue. He was aware of a barely audible moan, but couldn't tell if it had come from him or Hadrian. There was a low groan that he was sure belonged to Hadrian because it had the same effect as when he'd first heard it, and his erection swelled faster than he'd thought possible from kissing alone.

Striving to slow down before he got too excited, Tom took Hadrian's face into his hand, and alternated tactics with long, languorous swipes of his tongue to the roof, back, every crevice of his mouth. Hadrian grunted in approval, tightening his hold on his neck and meeting his leisurely assault with eager flicks.

But it wasn't enough to restrain him. He felt as though he were ablaze with desire. His skin itched with the need to _claim _and _own_. Tom had never wanted someone so much as he did Hadrian at that moment.

He placed his other arm around Hadrian's hips and waist, trying to get closer to his heat as he positioned them so their bodies could face one another better. Hadrian took it a step further. Cutting the kiss briefly short, one of his legs came off the seat and he swung it over Tom's legs until both of his knees were digging into the cushions and his thighs were pressing against Tom's hipbones on opposite sides.

And then Hadrian was straddling his lap and Tom's head was pushed back into the sofa, tilted up all the way as lips once again descended on his. He got some much-needed relief from his aching erection as Hadrian's was confined with his in the very small space between them. It took all of his effort not to let out his whimper when Hadrian slowly, agonizingly ground into him, creating a delicious friction that was absolute perfection and more.

_Gods, _that felt good. He could feel every single detail as though there were no clothes between them. _The exact weight...the scorching heat...the throbbing hardness against his own..._

The shortest thirty minutes of Tom's life passed like that, and, just when they were getting really into it, seconds away from fucking right there on the sofa—hands clawing to remove clothes, lips everywhere, hips rocking like a pair of animals in heat, room echoing their pants and moans, magic a hair's-breadth away from connecting—they were vexingly, infuriatingly, _gallingly _interrupted.

There was a soft knock on the door. Tom couldn't think of anyone who would have the audacity to bother them when they knew he was in here. Other than Alphard, of course. So help him if that was the insolent Black behind the door.

Hadrian pulled back to look down into his face, breath soft, pupils dilated, lips red, and not at all helping with Tom's efforts to bring down his arousal. Which was all right, because, suddenly, he very much didn't want to answer the door.

Tom ran his hands deliberately up the sides of his waist, down his chest, to his hips, never breaking eye contact. "Ignore it," he said lowly, licking a trail up his throat.

He fingered the band of Hadrian's drawers, then tread lower to trace the outline of his hard-on through the fabric. Hadrian gasped softly and bucked into his hand. Tom was unbearably hard in two seconds flat. The current accommodations weren't exactly desirable, but, at this point, there was nothing he cared less about. He'd been thinking about this for an immoderately long time.

He wrapped his hands around Hadrian's thighs, intending on lifting him off his lap, laying him onto his back on the sofa, and fucking him good and proper, but he never got the chance. Another knock came, this one insistent and loud and oddly scratchy, letting them know they couldn't disregard whoever was behind the door and hope they leave.

Hadrian sighed in frustration, sounding as displeased as Tom felt to be disrupted. There had better be a damned fire if the person on the other side of that blasted door wanted to survive beyond this day. Actually, he might decide to kill them out of sheer disgruntlement anyway.

Peeling his gaze away, Hadrian stood up off Tom's lap, took a second to will away his obvious erection, shrug back on and straighten his disheveled clothing, then made his way over to the door with enviable grace for one so aroused. Although Tom couldn't stand the thought of anyone besides himself feasting their eyes on Hadrian's delectably flushed and thoroughly-kissed appearance, he didn't get the chance to cast a spell to hide the evidence of what they'd been doing before the Slytherin was opening the large door.

Fortunately, it was not Alphard or even a person on the other side, but rather a snow-white owl that could only be Hadrian's. Said owl appeared to be impatient, apparently for having been made to wait fluttering her wings in the middle of the hallway with nowhere to go. She hooted indignantly at the sight of her owner but was instantly appeased when he held out his arm for her to gently land on.

Tom thought it ridiculous that he was able to read an owl's expressions, no matter how expressive that owl was.

"Sorry to make you wait, Hedwig," Hadrian apologized, stroking the top of her feathery head.

He turned around and walked back over to the couch. He sat beside Tom again, their thighs touching this time, and began to untie the letter attached to his owl's leg. "Let's see what you have for me," he hummed.

Hedwig, the owl, was staring at Tom through piercing, intelligent amber eyes that seemed to be sizing him up. Tom stared balefully in return, resenting her for disturbing them, and immediately felt foolish for engaging in a battle of wills with a bird, though she undoubtedly deserved the blame for his sexual frustration.

Hadrian noticed Tom gazing at his owl. "Oh, excuse me. I don't think you've had the chance to be formally introduced. Tom, this is my beautiful and very smart owl, Hedwig. Hedwig, meet Tom."

Tom gave him a _look_, one that clearly conveyed what he thought about being introduced to an animal. "Pleasure," he drawled sarcastically.

Hadrian laughed. "Don't give me that look. Hedwig understands more than you think," he bragged, sounding like a proud father. His owl hooted as though in agreement, and that only served to make the smug expression on his face even more so.

Tom wisely chose not to voice his skepticism, and watched instead as Hadrian unsealed his letter and silently read it. A number of emotions played across his face and were swiftly wiped off before Tom could make sense of them. When he was done, he folded the parchment into a small square and slipped it into his robe pocket, looking pensive.

"What's wrong? Have you received unwelcome news?" Tom asked, though he knew that couldn't be it. He was only interested to know what had butted in on their time together.

Hadrian blinked at him and shook his head. "No; it's from my father."

"Oh? Does he disapprove of your participation in the attack?" Tom curiously wondered.

He remembered the other Slytherins' parents' reactions to their children showing up in the paper for defending against the Dark Lord's attack. He'd been initially surprised that Hadrian hadn't gotten a response from his parents, but had figured that it took a while for an owl to get from France to Scotland.

He didn't expect much of an answer from him on the subject, however.

"No. Nothing like that," Hadrian replied, looking at Tom like _he'd _suggested something improbable. Then, in a surprising moment of candidness with the Head Boy (even if they were something more than friends now), he clarified, "He's just glad I'm all right. Mother was beside herself with worry when she saw the paper; father's asking after my health to put her at ease."

Tom's first thought was that Hadrian's parents were a couple of the strangest Dark pureblood parents he'd ever heard of. Not only were they apparently unperturbed that their son fought the Dark Lord both their families privately supported, all they seemed to be worried about in that whole equation was whether he was okay.

They certainly sounded like interesting people, though a bit soft if truth be told. When he'd bothered to picture Hadrian's father—if only for an instant after the man had been mentioned as being a Ward Mage—he'd had an image of a strict, short-haired, taller version of Hadrian himself.

He would have never imagined someone as disciplined, well-mannered, and capable as Hadrian to have been spoiled by anyone, let alone a man like that. Abraxas was the very definition of spoiled and _he _had received a letter that had made the pale boy paler yet for a couple of days.

"I'm sorry, Tom," Hadrian spoke, capturing his attention away from his musings, "but I must answer this."

"Yes, of course." Tom stood with him and grabbed his bag while the owl perched on the sofa arm flew to Hadrian's shoulder.

"I'll see you Saturday, then," said Hadrian once Tom had straightened and followed him to the door.

And, though Tom should have remembered then that they had nothing more to work on and thus had no reason to meet at their usual time, it had been the last thing on his mind. He'd been entirely focused instead on sharing one last kiss with Hadrian before they were to once again return to their performance.

Therefore, two days later found both boys back at the Room of Requirement and neither realized exactly what they'd done until they were standing in front of the door. While Hadrian found immense humor in the situation, Tom was only annoyed with himself for being so absentminded and easily distractible around the boy.

Hadrian looked over at his displeased expression. "Oh, come now, Tom. Lighten up," he urged, green eyes dancing with mirth. "It was an honest mistake."

Tom was prepared to turn around and head back to his room to do more productive things with his time, but Hadrian grabbed his arm before he could take a step. His fingers were warm where they touched him, and Tom was thankful he wasn't holding onto his wrist instead as his pulse skittered a beat. He crushed the response with unforgiving force, and went along when Hadrian pulled on his arm until Tom stood in front of him.

"Where are you running off to?" he asked, still more amused than the situation warranted. "You've no other obligations, do you?"

"Of course not. I foolishly set aside time for something we finished two days ago," Tom replied dryly. "I do, however, have things to attend to now that I've realized my blunder."

"Or," Hadrian prompted with that smile of his Tom had learned meant inspiration had struck, "we could use this to our advantage."

Tom examined the somewhat mischievous look on his face and the spark replacing the amusement in his eyes and quickly caught on. It was simple yet exactly what they needed at the time: being able to meet under the guise of working together. He was surprised he hadn't come up with it and that it had taken them accidentally happening upon it to find the solution to their problem. He would have if he hadn't allowed Hadrian to occupy his mind so.

Was this how it was going to be from now on? Was everything between them going to revolve around this change in their relationship? Was everything _he _did going to revolve around that?

Granted, it was a bit difficult to look at Hadrian without wanting to ravish him knowing he could now—it had been difficult before even—but that didn't mean it was okay for him to think of nothing else except that. So why was it that his prick seemed to rule his mind these days anytime the pureblood even remotely entered his thoughts or line of vision?

Hadrian released his arm and walked back and forth past the wall until the door appeared. Tom stepped in after him. He stopped in his tracks when he saw what the room looked like. Instead of the long sofa with the table in front of it that he'd gotten used to, or even the bed he'd have expected in its place, it was the familiar dueling stand they hadn't gotten a chance to use for a little over two weeks.

Either oblivious to Tom's well-hidden confusion or choosing to ignore it, Hadrian glanced over his shoulder at him. "Feel up for a duel?" he inquired lightly.

_What?_ This was _not _what he'd expected to happen. Not a moment ago, Tom had thought he and Hadrian being around each other now while their relationship was fresh meant that they would be thinking of nothing short of the physical aspect of it. But Hadrian wanted to _duel_? Could it be that he was alone in this? Did Hadrian not suffer from the same affliction?

No. That couldn't be it. It didn't make the least bit of sense. Had that been the only thing on his mind, he wouldn't have neglected to remember that they had no reason to show up today to work on a finished project. As intoxicating as it was, dueling had never made them so forgetful.

Most days, Tom did not mind a duel, but on a list of things he wanted to do with—_to_—Hadrian this moment, it did not even factor in. He had been positive the dark-haired boy was as enthusiastic as he was about that, judging from how disappointed he'd been at having been interrupted on Thursday. He would have thought Hadrian would be just as eager to pick up where they had left off.

Tom, of course, did not and would not voice any of these thoughts to him. He instead schooled his features and accepted Hadrian's offer, moving to join him on the platform. He acted as though he noticed nothing strange about the Slytherin's proposal, and that he himself was looking forward to it.

Beneath the surface, Tom reflected that Hadrian was still an utter mystery to him. A few kisses and some heavy groping wouldn't suddenly change that. He could tell something had happened between their parting on Thursday and their coming together today to make Hadrian want to duel rather than engage in much more pleasurable acts for both parties involved.

What, Tom didn't get a chance to so much as contemplate. Hadrian promptly commenced the duel with a rather forceful curse that had his full attention. He let it go for now, knowing for a fact that he would figure it out given a little time and some thought. As complex as Hadrian was, there wasn't yet a problem that Tom had failed to solve.

Hardly a week into their…whatever it was, and Hadrian was already presenting him with a challenge. He'd thought things would change between them—though not how he would react to that change—and while some things had, most others were fundamentally the same. To be perfectly honest, he was glad for that. Sometimes it was good to be challenged, and he didn't want for Hadrian to become a bore.

**000**

Tom was getting suspicious. More like, Hadrian amended, he'd been suspicious since the week before, and was now likely at the stage where he was forming and discarding slightly more accurate theories. He didn't want to make the mistake of underestimating Tom's deductive abilities, but Hadrian still doubted he would come to the correct conclusion.

He'd probably figured out what Hadrian was doing almost immediately, though. He'd seen the look of realization on Tom's face when he'd suggested they duel for the second day in a row. And then there had been that glint in his eyes, as though his resolve to figure it out had just been strengthened. Yes, Hadrian was avoiding having sex with him—but why?

Why, indeed.

It was stupid, really. Hadrian himself couldn't believe he was even entertaining such a notion. There was a reason Tom would probably never figure it out, because even he knew him well enough to realize such concerns shouldn't have any place in Hadrian's head.

Except for the fact that they unfortunately did, and he couldn't unthink them now that the seed had been planted.

He had been prepared to have mind-blowing sex with Tom, because if their duels had been a prelude to anything, there was no question as to how good it was going to be. Then he'd remembered his track record with the people he had sex with. That is to say, it was not good.

Almost everyone he'd ever had sex with had ended up boring the hell out of him after. Not immediately after, of course, but they did eventually. Some, like Draco, if they had been interesting enough, lasted longer. Even then, however, they failed to hold his interest beyond the physical.

It was as though he'd only been with them for the sole purpose of getting to that point, and, when he conquered that, wanted to move on to the next challenge. He hadn't had the same feelings for those people starting out as he did for Tom, though. He'd also never wanted to have sex with anyone as badly as he did Tom—Thursday's intense session had proven that beyond a doubt—which made his endeavor to avoid doing so that much harder.

His real, genuine, yet utterly complicated feelings for Tom were what it all boiled down to. Anyone else and he wouldn't have cared as much, but he was alarmed and disquieted to learn that he desperately did not want to become bored with Tom.

Hadrian could acknowledge that even if he were to have sex with Tom, it was irrational of him to think he would soon tire of him. There were countless reasons that Tom excited him, and many of them had nothing at all to do with sex. After all, Voldemort had been plenty exciting and he'd never once thought of snake-face in that way.

Gross, now he had _that _image in his head.

Implausible though it may be, there was a small part of him that feared for that outcome. He couldn't, absolutely refused to go back to that time when he'd been nothing but an empty shell moving on autopilot.

Then again, he was no longer the same person so who was to say he would react the same way to a similar situation? Hadrian was nowhere near as much of an adrenaline junkie as Harry, even if he'd gotten increasingly restless with his life and had been more amenable to the merge.

Hadrian refrained from sighing aloud. Once again, Tom occupied his thoughts. He was practically all he thought about throughout the day, and it was very disconcerting. Worse, they were the kind of thoughts that had him evaluating his damn _feelings _and unearthing insecurities he would rather remain hidden.

He gratefully snapped out of his musings when Alphard plopped back down into his seat. His cousin placed the large book he'd stood up to search the library's Charms sections for in the middle of the table.

"Found it," he unnecessarily announced. "They put it in the most obscure place. I had to triple check every shelf."

Hadrian assumed he was explaining for his long absence. He hadn't noticed. He had gotten lost in his mind the moment Alphard had offered to go find the reference book they needed for their essay. He should have paid more attention, especially since Alphard was finally returning to the way he'd been around him before the attack.

Besides the fact that Alphard hadn't hung around after classes to walk with him last week or the first three days of this week, not too much had changed between them. Still, Hadrian had felt a great distance, as though his cousin had been pulling away emotionally, if not physically. Hence he'd been immensely glad when Alphard had come to him after classes with his old enthusiasm and asked if he wanted to do their homework in the library.

Hadrian had initially believed the other boy actually wanted to talk. He had instead been pleasantly surprised to find that Alphard was back to his usual carefree self and only wanted to spend time with him, and nothing else.

No more of those odd, wounded glances Alphard had kept sending his way, either. Seconds later and he would have given up trying to decipher what they meant and outright asked Alphard exactly what he'd done to deserve them. Whatever it was, it seemed Alphard had come to terms with it. That was good enough for him.

They hadn't sat together like this doing homework in a while, and Hadrian realized he had come to miss and value his cousin's friendship more than he'd thought.

Perhaps…perhaps he could tell just him about Tom. Only this one little secret which wasn't as important to keep as some of his other ones. He could trust Alphard not to tell anyone else if he expressly asked him not to. He knew he would never gossip about it.

Before Hadrian had made up his mind about whether or not to tell him, Alphard put his quill down and looked up at him. "I received a Howler from father," he shared suddenly, voice low.

They were in a table close to the back of the library with not many people near them. They weren't in any danger of being overheard, so there was really no need for Alphard to speak so quietly, but he sounded uncomfortable and Hadrian could tell it was difficult for him to speak about this. He kept silent and patiently waited for him to finish saying what he needed to.

"Of course, he had the owl deliver it when I was alone," Alphard continued. "He saw my photo in the paper—as did the rest of the family and all his friends, to his endless shame." He chuckled self-deprecatingly. "Another disappointment to add to a long list."

Hadrian couldn't remember a time when he'd wanted to curse Pollux Black more. "Don't listen to him, Alphard," he urged. "You did great. Protecting people in danger is not something to be ashamed of."

He knew it was only natural for Dark pureblood parents to react like this. In fact, he was fairly certain Abraxas had received a similar letter judging by the way he'd been uncharacteristically anxious afterward.

Hadrian should have realized that may have been what was bothering Alphard the past week. Pollux-bloody-Black's disappointment of him was nothing new, but Alphard had always been affected by it, and this time was no different.

"I'm not ashamed," Alphard defended. "Father doesn't see it that way, though. I wonder if the Dark Lord _hadn't _been behind the attack, would he have been less critical about it? It seems like disappointment is his default response nowadays."

Hadrian frowned. He hadn't known his cousin was hurting so. He'd never let on that things were this bad. He only had himself to blame, he supposed. He'd been entirely caught up in his own problems that he had been too selfish to notice what was right in front of him.

And he'd been seconds away from dumping more on Alphard and once again making it all about himself.

"Stop talking like that." Hadrian leaned forward in his chair. He stared resolutely into Alphard's eyes, and tried to convey his emotions through his own eyes. "Your father hasn't the faintest idea about who you are. That's his loss. There are other people who appreciate you exactly the way you are, Alphard. That paper was not wrong—you _are _a hero," he maintained, watching Alphard's face closely for his reactions. It looked as though it was working. "He may not be, but _I'm_ proud of you, okay?"

Alphard's face split into a large smile that made his gray eyes glow with happiness. "You are?" he asked softly, like he couldn't believe such a thing.

Hadrian nodded, pleased to have brought that smile on Alphard's face. "Absolutely. Pureblood politics be damned, we kicked Grindelwald's arse."

Alphard stared at him with wide-eyed shock and disbelief. "Hadrian, you just swore," he breathed out in awe.

Hadrian laughed, knowing how unusual it must seem to Alphard for him to do something like that. "Yes, I'm aware."

"You never swear."

"Not _out loud_," Hadrian agreed.

Alphard's eyes widened further at that. "You've changed," he commented. Then, as though afraid he'd offended Hadrian, he quickly added, "Not in a bad way."

"That's good to know," said Hadrian, amused.

With a thoughtful expression, Alphard picked his quill back up and stooped low to his parchment, clearly mulling over things other than his essay. Hadrian, meanwhile, leafed through the book on the table, looking for more extensive information on the charm they had to write about.

A minute or two passed silently in their little corner of the library, and then Alphard interrupted it by asking one of the questions Hadrian knew every single one of his cousins had been wanting to since the attack, but had yet to.

"About the attack…" he prompted, pausing in his writing, "where did you learn to fight like that?"

Hadrian didn't have an answer that would satisfy him. He couldn't dodge this like he had the curiosity about his sudden interest in Quidditch back in September. A natural talent for flying could not compare to a concentrated effort to better one's dueling skills.

He went for giving him a version of the truth—from Hadrian's end, at least. "Surely you did not think my father only imparted his warding knowledge unto me?"

That alone, certainly, wouldn't have made him as good as he was now, but Alphard didn't need to know that.

Alphard, unpredictably, appeared to be taking his words with a little grain of salt. "I hadn't realized your father was a Dueling Master as well as a Ward Mage," he voiced slowly, tone slightly skeptical, which Hadrian found insulting, really.

"He's very adept," Hadrian said truthfully, perhaps a tad defensive in his father's behalf.

Alphard shook his head, a crooked grin on his face. "Somehow, I find that hard to believe," he admitted wryly. "I'm learning something new about you every day. I wouldn't put it past you to have taken whatever your father taught you and advanced it on your own. Did your father teach you that Patronus Charm as well?"

Hadrian was taken aback. Where was this sudden intuitive side of Alphard coming from? Had he been noticing more of the changes the merge had caused in Hadrian than he'd let on?

Hadrian chuckled good-naturedly. "All right," he faux-conceded, "a fair amount of it was self-taught."

Alphard seemed satisfied. "That's what I thought," he declared triumphantly.

Hadrian did not wish for him to dwell on the subject for long, but it wasn't too hard to change it. "I believe you mentioned an appointment you must keep with Noah?" he reminded. He stood to his feet to incite Alphard into moving.

Alphard's head swiveled to his right to glance at the clock on the wall. "Oh, you're right. I'd forgotten," he said, moving swiftly to put his things into his bag, closing it, and swinging it over one shoulder. "I'm almost late."

Hadrian led the way to the front of the library and out the door. "How's it going with you and Noah?" he asked as his cousin fell into step with him.

The expression on Alphard's face was, strangely enough, halfway between discontent and a grimace, or, rather, a forced-looking smile.

"Good," he said. "It's going good."

Hadrian frowned at the lackluster response and enthusiasm. "What's the matter? Do you not like him?" he asked uncertainly.

How did he not know this? He'd never actually asked Alphard that or allowed him to voice his feelings, he realized. He'd been pushing his cousin toward the Hufflepuff and coercing him when he should have been listening.

To his temporary relief, Alphard shook his head quickly. "No," he stated, avoiding looking over at Hadrian. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, for one, you've never before said whether you do or not," said Hadrian, recognizing that the gray-eyed boy was skirting around the question.

"I went on a date with him, didn't I?" Alphard continued to hedge, finally looking over at him.

They came upon the tapestry hanging in the center of the corridor and moved it aside to get to the narrow staircase it concealed.

Hadrian rolled his eyes as they descended the stairs, not forgetting to jump over the trick step in his preoccupation. "Which was interrupted before it really began," he noted. "I'd hardly call that a 'date.'"

"We're meeting now," Alphard countered. "It's kind of a date."

Hadrian glanced at him, wondering why he was being so argumentative and wouldn't just answer the question. "Does _he _see it that way?" he asked curiously.

"Of course. He suggested it; something about how much he loved the cold and was looking forward to going outside. He even hopes it snows today." Alphard looked as though he were barely containing the urge to roll his eyes and ask, "How weird is that?"

Hadrian sort of understood where he was coming from. He couldn't fathom loving the cold, or ever wanting snow. But this was something Alphard should have found charming, not odd. Heck, he hated being cold and he found it endearing.

Choosing not to address that, Hadrian clarified, "_He_ suggested it? Not you?" At his cousin's shake of the head, he remarked, "He was the one who first decided to ask you out to Hogsmeade, wasn't he? Why is it now he's the one who must once again ask you for a make-up date?

"You do realize bringing him flowers when he's ill isn't enough? Otherwise he will think you aren't interested in him the way he is in you." He wasn't exactly an expert on relationships himself—far from it—but he was on a roll. "Are you?"

Alphard lifted an inquisitive brow. "Am I what?" he asked.

"Interested in him?" Hadrian elaborated, feeling as though it had been obvious and he really shouldn't have to repeat this question. How hard was it to say if you liked someone or not?

Alphard shrugged. "I didn't say I wasn't. I don't see why he would get that impression when I agreed to each date he wanted."

Hadrian abruptly came to a stop the moment they reached the staircase on the second floor that led to the first. He tugged his cousin by the shoulder and made him stop in front of him. Alphard's brows furrowed in confusion at this unexpected move.

"Why do you insist on eluding my question?" Hadrian asked, calling on his patience to keep from getting frustrated. "Do you like Noah?" he carefully enunciated.

"Why do you need to know so badly?" Alphard wasn't doing as good a job reining in his frustration. He actually seemed visibly upset about Hadrian's deep interest.

"I would like to know if you're doing this because you want to or because I pushed you into it. I know it may have seemed like I didn't care for your opinion earlier, and I apologize, but I would appreciate knowing I didn't pressure you into going out with someone you don't actually like," Hadrian confessed, repentant.

Alphard sighed and brought up a hand to anxiously fidget with the hair at the nape of his neck. "You didn't pressure me. Since when have you known me to go along with something I didn't want to? Please don't worry needlessly," he advised, smiling reassuringly at him.

Hadrian stared at him. He waited for him to finally tell him whatever feelings he had for Noah, but nothing came. This was getting ridiculous. Alphard was purposely not telling him. What the hell?

"Merlin," Hadrian swore under his breath. "You don't, do you? How can you ask me not to worry when you've made it abundantly clear that this decision was not of your own choosing?"

Alphard frowned heavily. "That's not true!" he exclaimed, hands now fists at his sides. "_I_ chose to go out with him. You did not 'make' me! How could you have?"

"Then just tell me you're doing it because you like him and for no other reason!"

Briefly, it seemed like a rejoinder was going to come out of Alphard's lips, but he shut his mouth and heatedly turned away from him. Hadrian watched in astonishment as his cousin hastily descended the stairs, and then continued walking without waiting for him.

Hadrian snapped out of his stunned stupor, and went after him. He jogged to catch up with him down the corridor, baffled as to what had caused this impassioned reaction.

"Alphard!" he called. "Alphard, hold on a second!"

Alphard paused mid-step and pivoted on his feet. His unwelcoming expression softened when he looked at Hadrian. "Look, I didn't mean to run off. I'm sorry. But I really don't want to talk about this anymore," he stressed.

Hadrian wished he could simply drop it, if only because it was causing Alphard such grief. But that wasn't really an option at this point. His cousin was being unnecessarily difficult about something that honestly shouldn't have been, and it was obvious to Hadrian that he needed to discuss it, even if he didn't know it himself.

"Alphard, you aren't making any sort of sense," Hadrian told him. "Just talk to me."

Alphard's eyes narrowed angrily for a second before he hurriedly wiped all expression from his face. "Hadrian, I no longer wish to talk about Noah," he said rigidly, more forcefully. He glanced in the direction of where the main marble staircase was further down the corridor, and added, "I believe here is where we part ways. Noah must be waiting for me in the Entrance Hall."

Hadrian wrapped his hand loosely around his bicep before he had a chance to move. "Why is it this is so hard for you?" he asked softly. "Am I asking too much here? It's a straightforward yes or no, Alphard. Frankly, I find your reluctance worrying."

There was a tautness to Alphard's body that made it seem as though he were trying not to shake. Hadrian could feel very slight tremors under his hand, and was alarmed by the amount of emotion his cousin was holding back. He hadn't known it was this much of a sore topic for him.

"I told you not to. This isn't as big a deal as you're making it out to be," Alphard said evenly, as though each word were being forcibly pulled through his teeth. "Why are you trying to rush us along, anyway? We hardly know one another; I can't be expected to express whatever feelings I may or may not have after one date, which you yourself said did not count as one."

Hadrian released his arm and gave them a little distance. "I apologize if it seemed like I was rushing you. That was not my intention," he said regretfully.

He then ploughed on in a manner that contradicted what he'd just said and that Alphard would probably find belligerent. "I suppose I wrongly assumed you might have any opinion by now. You don't have to profess love for him or anything else so serious. I would only like to know that you at least enjoy his company."

"Yes! Yes, I do," Alphard retorted hotly. "Are you satisfied now so that I may leave?"

Hadrian smiled slyly. Yes, he was very satisfied. "Then you _have _gotten to like him. Good to know," he concluded victoriously.

Alphard huffed furiously. "Merlin, I never said that!" he cried with great exasperation. He carried on with a growl, "You really want to know?"

"Clearly," said Hadrian.

"Noah is nice and all, but he's not the one I'm interested in," Alphard explained in a slow, measured tone, like he had a very thin hold on his ire. He watched Hadrian with an intensity that he'd never before seen.

Well, he _had _suspected as much, but he didn't understand why Alphard would go out with Noah if he didn't like him. As he'd said, he wasn't the type to do what he didn't want to, or who was shy about speaking his mind. Thus, if for whatever reason, he didn't want to confess to this person he supposedly liked, he shouldn't have had any problem turning Noah down.

Hadrian wanted to rile him up into finally telling him who this mystery person was. Wearing the most ingenuous expression, he asked, "I don't understand. Are you saying this so that I might cease questioning you?"

There seemed to be a storm cloud hanging over Alphard's face at these words. Hadrian had never had such anger directed towards him from his cousin, and he was a little unsettled at this change in him.

Alphard threw his hands up in aggravation. "You just don't get it!" he shouted.

Hadrian only had a passing second to speculate what he did not get before Alphard was stalking the couple of feet forward to invade his personal space. And then he was grabbing him and leaning in to plant his lips decisively onto his.

Hadrian completely froze. His mind went blank, except for: _What. The. Fuck._

**000**

Alphard was moving before he'd registered what he was doing. It was like he had no control over his own body.

Suddenly, he was pulling his cousin towards him, and kissing him full on the lips. Then he really did lose control over his body because he was kissing more firmly now, unbidden. Hadrian's lips were soft and warm, exactly as he had imagined them, and it was what he'd always wanted. He moaned. It was _so fucking good_. He was distantly aware that Hadrian wasn't responding, but that knowledge failed to penetrate his conscious mind.

After what felt like the longest and shortest instant, it wasn't Hadrian who pushed him away and ended the one-sided kiss as Alphard might have expected if he'd given it a thought. It was the loud gasp that echoed in the hallway.

Coming back to himself and realizing just what he'd done, Alphard let Hadrian go almost violently and stepped back. He stared at his cousin, eyes wide and terror-stricken. His heart stopped beating for an inordinately long amount of time, he was so fearful of the emerald-eyed boy's reaction.

The look on Hadrian's face was utter shock, but he wasn't directing it at him. Following his gaze, Alphard turned his head to his left to stare down the hall at—_gods no, no, no_—Noah. The Hufflepuff was standing beside the grand stairs to the Entrance Hall, face stricken with absolute devastation.

Shit. _Shit._ Something hot and tight coiled in his stomach and it was all Alphard could do not to vomit all over the floor from self-disgust.

He was stunned into inaction, though Hadrian didn't suffer from the same problem. He started walking down the corridor at a strangely subtle rapid pace, calling Noah's name placatingly, as though speaking to a small, cornered animal.

Noah backed away, expressions of betrayal and anguish warring for control over his face. The second he backed into the top step, he spun around and wildly ran down the flight of stairs.

Hadrian abandoned his slow approach, full out sprinting now to yell after the boy, "Noah! Noah!"

His shouts went unheard, although each one was like a sharp lash against Alphard's cheeks, reminding him of what he had very stupidly done. He wished more than anything that he possessed a time turner. He would go back to before he asked Hadrian to the library. Hell, he would go back to _any _time before now.

He had thought he was ready to face him again knowing he was with Tom now. Oh, how vastly wrong he'd been. Just sitting across from him hurt, and pretending everything was normal was even worse. He had tried—he had. Really, really hard.

But then Hadrian had to bring up Noah. He might have been able to get through the evening if not for that. No amount of brushing it off had worked either. For once, his vague responses to Hadrian's inquiries pertaining to Noah hadn't been enough to satisfy him. And he kept _pushing and pushing_ until Alphard couldn't take it anymore.

Hadrian's attention was back on him, and Alphard's heart beat so fast in his chest he was amazed it didn't burst out of his ribcage.

"How could you do that?!" Hadrian snarled, angry strides propelling him towards Alphard at a brisk speed. "What in the world were you thinking?!"

Alphard forbore from saying 'I wasn't,' though that would have been the truth. "I-I'm sorry," he stuttered, breath caught in his throat. "I'm really sorry, Hadrian. I didn't mean to."

"You didn't _mean _to kiss me? Do you make a habit of kissing all your male cousins like that?!" Hadrian snapped.

Merlin...fuck. He was so much madder than he had anticipated. This was not the Hadrian he knew. Even when he was mad, he seemed more hurt than anything. This was all just spitting anger.

Alphard was distastefully close to tears. Shit, he so did not want to cry right now. That Hadrian could be this mad at him—perhaps even hate him—hurt a thousand times worse than Tom's pain curse, which _hurt_. He blinked several times to bat away the tears threatening to materialize.

"No," he whispered, head lowered to hide the oncoming wetness behind his eyes, dearly wishing he could melt into the ground. "I…I'm sorry. I would take it back if I could."

Hadrian sighed loudly. Alphard glanced up to see him agitatedly running his hands through his hair. He appeared to be attempting to temper his anger. Hope blossomed in Alphard's chest at this gesture. Maybe Hadrian could someday forgive him, though he wouldn't blame him if he never wanted to speak to him again.

"I get that you're sorry. But it's not me you have to apologize to," said Hadrian, staring at Alphard with a more recognizable look in his green eyes than the fire that had been in them earlier. "You really hurt Noah. Have you any idea how much he likes you?"

Alphard knew—every time the sixth year gazed at him with that look in his eyes. The same look he himself had been giving Hadrian when he started liking him, back when they had been no older than twelve and he had returned from Hogwarts for the summer after having spent almost an entire year completely apart from him for the first time.

But now he gave him a different look. Alphard knew that he had hurt Noah, but the boy wasn't in love with him, and he would get over it soon. He didn't like him nearly as much as Alphard loved Hadrian; had loved for the longest time.

He did not think he could get over this rejection from Hadrian quite as well as Noah would the inadvertent rejection from him. Alphard had kissed him and even that didn't seem to be the main thing his cousin was choosing to focus on.

"Yes, I do," Alphard said softly. "I will apologize to him as soon as I see him."

"Good. That's good," Hadrian said. Relief shone through his voice, as though he thought himself culpable in this somehow. As though he'd had a hand in hurting Noah.

Alphard frowned heavily. He could have kicked himself. Angering Hadrian was—all right, not good, but making him feel guilty was the absolute lowest. "You are not at fault. You didn't hurt Noah; I did," he insisted.

"I doubt he will see it so objectively. To him, I am the person who kissed the guy he likes," Hadrian commented, smiling ruefully.

Alphard swallowed nervously at the reminder. He desperately did not want to bring it up, but they had to address the one thing they were evading. He could lie, even. Make up a different reason for having kissed him, one that definitely did not include divulging he'd been in love with his cousin since before Hadrian's fourteenth birthday.

It wouldn't work, of course. Hadrian was too smart to fall for something like that. But anything was better than the alternative.

"About that, I—"

"I can't, Alphard. I can't talk about that," Hadrian interjected urgently, shaking his head back and forth, as though in denial about what Alphard had done not ten minutes ago. "Not now, at least. I need to just…_think_."

"Oh. I understand," Alphard said dejectedly.

This wasn't going well. Being mad was one thing, but being so uncomfortable that Hadrian refused to talk? Alphard would have preferred getting yelled at rather than easily dismissed.

He knew he had no right to be so despondent, and tried not to let show how much he was. He was the one who had wrecked everything, after all. Not only was Hadrian with Tom—who had the benefit of _not _being family to him—but he was also very fond of Noah. If he had ever planned on telling Hadrian how he felt, which, for the record, he hadn't, this was the worst way he could have possibly done it.

Hadrian composed himself, purebred poise coming to his rescue, and nodded in acceptance. "All right. Permitting he hasn't gone to his common room, I shall go find Noah and…" He trailed off, evidently uncertain of what he would say to the Hufflepuff when he _did _find him. "…Talk to him," he finished unsurely.

"Okay," said Alphard simply, unwilling to push this tentative peace.

Hadrian watched him silently for a long moment while Alphard tried not to squirm, then he swung about and walked off down the corridor with such fluid grace, Alphard was unable to tell from his gait that he'd ever been ill at ease.

Alphard didn't move until he couldn't see him anymore, when he rounded the corner to the staircase.

Then he let the tears he no longer cared to hide trail down his face one at a time. He finally let all the pain and frustration and guilt and desperation and _heartache _that brought _more damn pain_ come pouring out. And then his cheeks were wet with them, and crying was _so_ _fucking useles_s because it wasn't lessening the hole in his heart, but he couldn't _fucking stop!_

* * *

Poor Alphard. He got so beaten down in this chapter. I hated doing that to him, but it had to be done. (Expect more in the next chapter.) :(

This part is just some of what was supposed to be included in the monstrosity that is the previous chapter so the other parts will be in the next chapter (namely, the conclusion to Alphard's transgression), which should be out in about 2 weeks. I know my promises don't hold much stock anymore (sorry about that), but that is something I can _guarantee_. I have almost the entire chapter (all 15K words of it and counting) written out.

I hope that satisfied those of you who asked about Abraxas; I had that planned for a while and I wasn't sure I would be able to squeeze it in—demonstrates his humanity, I guess. I know I haven't shown much of him, but he's not that important until later, or in comparison to some characters. For those of you who've inquired about **Dumbledore** and what he thinks of Hadrian or his view of what's happening: to put some of your curiosity to rest, I want you to know that I have _not _forgotten about him. In fact, Dumbledore knows more than you'd think. I mean, c'mon, since when has he been able to keep his crooked nose out of people's business? He'll make his official appearance in chapter 13 (if everything goes according to the outline, which is not a guarantee, obviously).

Same goes for Hadrian's **parents** because I know some of you will think their response to the paper was not right. So let me just tell you now that I know it was odd and I did that deliberately because those two are not as oblivious as they'd like you to believe when it comes to what's going on with their son! Much more on them in chapter 12.

Many thanks to everyone who advised me on **Reiniger** and gave me suggestions for an alternative! You've helped me immensely, even though it's a little overwhelming. It's a lot harder than I thought it would be to make up my mind on the final name. But I'm currently leaning toward **Blutjäger** (_blood hunter_), suggested to me by a lovely person who PM'd me (whose name I'm unsure if they'd want revealed). I think it sounds pretty cool. Plus it rather fits, don't it? Technically, they do hunt those they perceive have "dirtier" blood. What do you guys think of it? And please let me know how to pronounce it. My German is very nonexistent. Thanks again!

I've only done a cursory edit, so please don't be afraid to let me know if you see any mistakes.

* * *

Edited: 5/18/13


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